Stars Don't Lie
by all.out.carby
Summary: FINAL Chapter up! Chapter 30: Stars Don't Lie *please review!* :)
1. Do You Love Her?

This is like my third fic on the site, apart from the other ones. I am started to get kind of addicted...   
  
For those of you (the few of you) who have been reading my other fics, you know that my laptop's spelling and grammar check isn't cooperating. Please bear with it. I know how much it sucks when someones.sentenseEnds upliket his. (Translation: I know how much it sucks when someone's sentence ends up like this. ;) ) I'm so sorry for any mistakes I may have missed; I wrote this while watching Conan O'Brien, so it was late.   
  
*Susan and Carter are still going out. Not for a long time, its probably around the time of the seminar, but none of that would have happened. Abby and Luka aren't together.*  
  
--  
  
Carter rounded the corner with Susan, chatting away with all smiles. He was laughing at something, however the day had been a long one and his smile should have been gone by then. Susan's mouth could have flown off of her face, though, and he didn't see her stopping. He groaned in his head. Never aloud, he said to himself.  
  
"Because it would work," Susan chuckled, her statement filled with sarcasm. He laughed along with her, taking her shoulder and guiding her to the desk. He looked around to find any assignments for him. Chuny was quick to hand him two charts, which he accepted with a smile.   
  
Susan reached up to Carter and brought his face down to hers. She pecked it gingerly. "I'm off," she said. "I'll see you tonight?"  
  
Carter nodded. "Okay," he said. He smiled again.  
  
She nodded with the same cheerful expression on her face, waving to no one in particular.   
  
"Hey Carter."  
  
Carter turned around to see Abby approaching him. Her hair was tied up messily, as usual, with a few untamed strands lying around her face. He loved it when she looked so natural like that. Without covered in hairspray.   
  
"Abby," he said.  
  
"How's Susan?" she asked with the gentle smile. She handed him an additional chart with a sensible face and propped her elbows upon the counter.  
  
He looked at her strongly, but corrected himself and scratched the back of his head with exhaustion. "Good, good." She nodded as he continued, "How've you been?"  
  
She smiled at him, lighter this time. "Good. Not great, but I guess it'll do." She checked something on her own chart in front of her. "We never talk anymore."  
  
"Sure we do," Carter defended, fully aware that they weren't.  
  
"You don't see it," she said. "You have Susan now, Carter. I would have appreciated if you would've giving me a warning. Tell me that I was losing my best friend ahead of time." She smiled weakly at him and turned to walk towards the board.  
  
"What?" Carter exclaimed. He flushed immediately with a crimson tone to his cheeks at his speaking volume. No one noticed. He reached her at the board and stood beside her. "Why are you acting like this?"  
  
"Like what?" she asked, her eyes focused on the board. "Perfectly reasonable?"  
  
"Reasonable?"  
  
Abby nodded, now facing him. "How would you want me to act in this situation?"  
  
" 'In this situation?'"   
  
She rolled her eyes. Her generic smiles were slowly beginning to fade away. "Don't be stupid, Carter," she sighed, making her way to another side of the desk. She dropped a few miscellaneous charts onto the counter and turned around to meet him. "I don't have you as a friend anymore because you're wasting your time with someone that you share nothing with."  
  
"What?" he complained again. "What do you mean I share nothing with her?"  
  
"You two have nothing in common, you haven't slept together yet - "  
  
"How would you know?"   
  
"Have you, Carter?"  
  
He stuttered. "It's none of your business." She stared at him hard. "Not all relationships are about sex," he admitted.  
  
She rolled her eyes again. "Don't play the sensitive virgin, Carter," she said with a phony laugh. "You're not good at it."  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"You tell me."  
  
"Why are you acting like this?"  
  
"You've already asked me that question," she said, angrily walking off to an exam room. "Don't go there again."  
  
He put his hands over his head, but forced himself to make a hasty recovery when he saw Susan pushing her way back to the desk.   
  
"John," she said. "I just came back to get my scarf." She kissed him on the cheek, catching Carter's pretend smile. She obviously ignored it and took back to the lounge.  
  
"Abby's right, you know," Haleh motioned from behind him. "You two are nothing. I gotta say."  
  
"Um," Carter said, "that's very rude. I gotta say."  
  
Chuny shrugged. "Do you love her?"  
  
Carter laughed. "Who?"  
  
Haleh's jaw dropped. "Oh, man."  
  
"What?"  
  
"What do you mean 'what?' " Chuny said.  
  
"What do you mean by 'who?' is more like it."  
  
"Huh?" Carter suggested, lost.  
  
"I asked if you loved her," Chuny explained. "You said 'who.'"  
  
"Well, you were talking about Abby, so I - "  
  
Haleh and Chuny started to laugh. "Don't waste your time, Carter," Chuny said. "Get out of here, your shift is over."  
  
Carter didn't say anything. He whipped around and walked to the lounge. He hadn't seen Susan's departure, but she was gone. The lounge was empty, except for one person. With his luck, it just had to be Abby.  
  
She didn't say anything to him. She was irately shoving on her coat as he walked into the room. He hesitated then came to his locker. He shared the same emotional output as she and didn't waste any time readying himself for the cold.   
  
"Abby," he finally said.   
  
"Save it, John," she said abruptly. "If it weren't for us both working at County, I would vow to never talk to you again."  
  
"Mature."  
  
"You're one to talk." She spun around carelessly and threw the door open. She walked furiously to the exit and disappeared from his sight.  
  
Carter immediately recognized the feeling. He was worried about their relationship. It was completely his fault, whether he chose to admit it or not. Abby was his life beside Gamma. His best friend. Her smile could set him free consciously. He wondered if she had known that. She didn't, he told himself. That was also his fault.  
  
He did love her. But only as a friend. He was with Susan. Susan Lewis. Not Abby Lockhart. 


	2. Moment in the Lounge

Sorry that I haven't been tending to this one as much as my others. I forgot where I was going with it. It was a really good idea, too...   
  
--  
  
"Carter," Susan called from the desk.  
  
He came to see her standing, waiting with her coat on. Should she be calling him 'Carter?' If they were going out, shouldn't she be calling him 'John' now? Just a thought, he reminded himself, and gave her a rehearsed smile. "Yeah?"  
  
"Get your coat on." She playfully giggled and curled a strand of hair behind her ear. "We're going to be late for our reservations."  
  
He opened his mouth, but stopped himself and nodded. What was he going to say? He would never know, truthfully. She looked elsewhere and trotted towards a few nurses. Carter sighed and walked to the lounge with a heavy head.  
  
He still hadn't recovered from the fight with Abby. He didn't think it was that big of a deal, but it was. He had cursed himself for his ignorance like that. He knew she was right. Just because he had Susan, he had ignored he and Abby's relationship, which was important as well. Very important to the both of them.  
  
Abby and Luka were in the lounge when he entered. Luka, however, was just leaving. He nodded to Carter as he mumbled his name. Carter nodded after him all the same, then looked at Abby. Abby looked back, but shifted her gaze to the floor. She began to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand.  
  
"Something wrong?" Carter inquired, taking his coat from his shoulders and tossing it into the locker. He loosened his tie, but not too visibly, seeing as he had dinner reservations.  
  
"What?" she asked looking up. Her eyes didn't resemble any crying, so Carter felt lost for words.  
  
"I thought you were, um, crying," he rushed with a sympathetic smile. She stayed still. "Were you?"  
  
She shook her head. "No," she said looking away again.  
  
He nodded and turned to his locker. He focused on the mirror in the back. There were dark circles under his eyes, depicting clear weariness. He traced a finger through the irritating stubble on his cheek. Why was he going out to eat? He'd just worked an almost twenty hour shift; did Susan know that?   
  
He didn't want to have dinner with her. He was going to put it into a joke, in a hopeful attempt to lighten the mood between Abby and he at the moment. Instead, his eyes were diverted to her, desperately trying to cleanse her face. She was crying.  
  
Carter left his locker open and slowly crept to her side. "What's wrong, Abby?"  
  
She jumped at his voice. "Nothing, John," she whispered. Her words were silent, but crystallized against the dark, opaque atmosphere between them. She searched her fingers for nothing and knotted them together. Her eyes met his, and it was then that he realized he was standing close to her. He wasn't uncomfortable like he thought he would be. Back in reality, her eyes were locked on his. His were focused on hers. He recognized the tears. He felt her stare on him, in him.  
  
"Something's wrong," he said. "You can tell me, Abby."  
  
"That's just the thing," she said, interrupting him. She drew apart a little and continued. "I can't."  
  
"What do you mean?" he laughed weakly. "Of course you can, Abby. I'm your best friend. Why couldn't you?"  
  
She shook her head. Taking away another stray tear, she added, "Because you're not my friend at all, John." She called him John, he thought, as she went on. "We're not the same."  
  
He nodded. "I know."  
  
She nodded, too. He hoped that she was as disappointed about their dispute as he was.   
  
"Have dinner with me," he said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Have dinner with me," he said. He was almost disappointed with himself. Remember Susan? he asked himself. "Just me and you. We can try to get this whole thing straightened out."  
  
She smiled wearily. Her tears had ceased. "Okay," she sniffed. With a slightly tearful laugh, she repeated, "Okay."  
  
He didn't think twice about the reservations. They hadn't paid ahead of time; big deal if they missed on dinner date. Why should Susan be upset with that? She knew Abby was his closest friend.   
  
He pulled her into a strong hug. Her arms instantly grabbed him, bringing him closer. She was crying out inside, he could sense it. With Abby, he always could sense that. He held the back of her scrub top, near her neck and hair. He breathed in the scent of her hair and sighed quietly to himself. "You're my best friend, Abby," he said.   
  
Abby's hands rubbed the end of his back. He did the same to her, enjoying himself. She pulled apart, and Carter stopped himself from groaning. "I know," she said. Her smile was small and meager, but it was a smile. It was a smile from Abby, and that could light up his day.  
  
"I'll be right back," he said. "Then we'll go out and eat, 'kay?"  
  
"Would it be okay if we just got something to go?" Abby asked, her voice still shaky. "I have something I want to tell you." She added this quietly with her face unsure.  
  
"Of course," Carter answered. He tried to watch for the something in her eyes, but didn't find it. He proceeded from the lounge to the desk again to see Susan waiting for him.   
  
"Carter!" she said. Her smile was there, but she didn't mean it. "Where's your coat? Let's go!"  
  
"Not tonight," he said.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
He shook his head. "Sorry," he said, "I know we had reservations and everything. But I worked for almost a day without sleep. And I gotta get some sleep."  
  
She didn't want to say anything. "Okay," she said. "Fine." She looked at him oddly again. "We all work long days around here Carter." She giggled carelessly and kissed him across the counter. It felt different.  
  
"I'll call you, Carter," she said as she was leaving.  
  
How about you call me John, he thought. He could have laughed aloud at himself for sounding so dumbly.  
  
He reentered the lounge. "Ready, Abby?"  
  
She nodded from her seat on the couch. "Yeah," she whispered. "Let's go."  
  
--  
  
Ooooh, what is she going to tell him in Chapter three?? No one's that interested...  
  
A note: I was listening to Secret Garden, the Jerry Maguire song while I wrote this. The one with the Tom Cruise-Renee Zellwegger dialogue in it. That put something into this story, I guess. I wish I could have written a more Carby story to the song though.  
  
Sorry for it being kind of short. Chapter three should be up pretty soon.   
  
Again, thanks for all the great feelings from reviews!! You guys are so sweet.  
  
-me 


	3. Best Friends

As soon as Carter left the ER, he found Abby waiting for him. He knew he could have passed out, he was so tired. But Abby would keep him up. Susan, on the other hand, could be around the lot, so he watched out for her as he walked towards Abby.  
  
"It's cold," Carter explained. "Why aren't you wearing any gloves?"  
  
Abby didn't look up. "Lost them."  
  
Carter laughed. "Here," he said. He extended a hand, which she accepted after hesitating. He smiled at her gentle touch to himself and started toward his car. He opened the passenger's side, eased her inside and closed the door.   
  
"Where do you wanna get dinner?"  
  
Abby shrugged. Yawning, she answered, "Chinese sound good?"  
  
Carter nodded, also yawning. The car started and they began to leave the lot. "Chinese it is."  
  
She looked down, Carter saw to his right. Her hands were dancing uneasily in her lap as Carter tried to stay focused on the road. He wanted to reach out and embrace her, taking in her scent again.   
  
But not because he had feelings for her. No, that was wrong. He was with Susan, happily. But Abby was like a gentle form to him. Like she was there for him to hug and to talk to, and she would always hug and talk back. Basically, she was there for him.  
  
And that's when more terrribile guilt struck. He wasn't there for her, like she would have been. He felt instantly awful and pulled over on a remote street.  
  
"What are you doing?" she asked nervously. "The place is over there - "  
  
Her hand pointed to his left, right in front of his face as she gestured to a corner where he should have turned. He took her hand and rested it slowly back to the seat. She looked at him confusedly and waited for him to speak.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said. His head was bowed until his eyes shifted to her wondering gaze. "You're always there for me. You always have been."  
  
"John," she said, "what are you doing?"  
  
"You're right, okay?" he said. The guilt was overwhelming. "Just because I'm with Susan, I've been completely ignorant toward you, and you definitely don't deserve that."  
  
She shook her head slightly and looked down. "I overreacted, John," she said with a light laugh. However, Carter could clearly read the laugh. She was hurt. Her eyes didn't meet his now.  
  
"No you didn't," he said. "And you know it. I'm sorry. I feel terrible for not telling you any of this before."  
  
She nodded. "I just miss you."  
  
He watched her hands twist together again, nervously intertwining by themselves in the dark.   
  
"I miss you, too." He held her chin and brought it up to meet his eyes.  
  
The electricity came out of nowhere. It hit him strongly, as it did her. Her eyes were pleading, Carter could see. She breathed out into the air. Carter mirrored this action, and noticed her eyes. Even in the pale, silent dark, they sparkled.  
  
"Me and you," he began, watching Abby's eyes become brighter, "We're gonna be best friends no matter what."  
  
She smiled uneasily at the comment.  
  
"You know that, right? I love you, Abby." He rubbed her shoulder, as she shivered lightly. "You're my best friend."  
  
She nodded, her head bent and looking toward the floor. Carter wrapped his arms around her and brought her closer to him. Her arms quickly came around his neck and her chin found a spot between his neck and shoulder. He felt so comfortable with her like that.  
  
"You're my best friend, Abby. Don't forget that."  
  
She shook her head, the sniffled a bit. It caught Carter's attention, but he guessed she was just emotional over the whole thing.  
  
"I won't," she managed.  
  
He brought her face to see his. "What's wrong?" he asked with a stifled laugh.  
  
She shook her head and returned to her seat by the window. "Nothing," she said. She smiled wearily at him. "Nothing's wrong."  
  
He started up the car again as she breathed in the cold night with her eyes closed. She was beautiful, he said to himself. No matter where she was, or what she was doing, she was beautiful.  
  
But so was Susan. He forced himself to keep his thoughts on Susan. Susan with her soft, blonde hair and her pale skin. That was Susan.  
  
But Abby was more. She was Abby with the silky, slightly untamed mass of chestnut tresses. She was Abby with the smile that made him want to live, and the eyes that made him want to die for her. Her eyes told him everything. They told him secrets. They guided him to her every time.  
  
Carter snapped from his world of true and perfect cliches to stop at their destination. As he met Abby on her side of the car with a smile, he helped her out and told himself more. He mentioned that Susan was perfect for him. They'd gone out for four months without a fight or the slightest conflict. He told himself this over and over again.  
  
"Order, Carter," she said with a grin as she looked around the restaurant.   
  
Carter selected his dinner and listened to Abby make her choice as well. She smiled as she spoke; it all caught his eyes again. Her voice was smooth, sure to her word. When she finished she thanked him quietly and went to the end of the counter. Mesmerized for an unknown reason, he followed her in a daze.  
  
Within a small amount of time, their meals were ready and they were out the door. They were still quiet, and Carter tried desperately to pick up anything of slight interest to talk to her about.  
  
"You love her?" Abby asked.  
  
It took him by surprise.   
  
"What?" he said with a chuckle.  
  
"I'm your best friend," she teased. "We know everything about each other."  
  
"Oh, really."  
  
"I'm not trying to get back at you," she said. "Just wanna know where the two of you stand."  
  
Carter giggled again. "We going to your place or mine?"  
  
Abby shrugged. "I'm just hungry."  
  
"Well," he said, settling back onto the road, "then would it be okay to head off to Gamma? She'd be happy to see you."   
  
Abby smiled. "I doubt that, but sure."  
  
"Gamma," he said. "Not my mother."  
  
"Is that rain?" Abby said.  
  
Carter reached down to flip on the windshield wipers. "I hate driving in the rain."  
  
--  
They reached the house, and walked to the entrance. They were soaked when they entered, giggling slightly at themselves.  
  
"I think she's asleep," Carter mentioned, walking inside with Abby at his left. She looked up, mystified all over again. "Come on," he said. "Want to eat in the dining room or the living room?"  
  
"Which dining room, which living room?"  
  
"Ha," Carter said. "Let's go into the living room. Get dried off in front of the fire."  
  
"Classic," Abby said with a small grin.  
  
"John?" Gamma called from another room.   
  
"I'm here, Gamma," he said. "Abby's here as well." He took Abby's coat from her and hung it in a nearby closet. She smiled thankfully and stuck to his side.  
  
"Abby," Gamma said, finally coming into sight to the two. "How are you?" she inquired, coming closer.  
  
"Fine, thank you," she said with a sweet smile. "How are you?"  
  
"Nice of you to ask. I'm fine," she said. "Carter, you know how to pick 'em." She smiled.  
  
"No, Gamma," Carter corrected her. "I'm going out with Susan. Susan Lewis."  
  
Gamma perked up. "Who said anything about dating?" she laughed. "I know you're going out with Susan Lewis. She's been her once..."  
  
"Thanks, Gamma," Carter said. "Abby and I are going to go anjoy our Chinese now next to the fire. Night."  
  
"Good night, John, Abby," she said. She winked at Abby.  
  
Abby nodded with a smile. "Night."  
  
The two of them left Gamma to climb up the stairs as they traveled to the nearby fireplace to settle down for dinner.  
  
--  
  
Please R/R! It helps. ;)  
  
Once again, thank you to all the people supporting me in their reviews! You guys are the best. ;)  
  
Gag, gag, gag. Don't you hate the Carsan crap?   
  
-me 


	4. Almost Just a Drive

I'm glad to see that people are actually INTERESTED in this thing! Thanks so much for all the great reviews.  
  
Just so all of you know, I have these all written out. From beginning to end. Well, actually, I might add onto them if they are getting okay reviews. I already have every chapter written for this one, "Here With Her," and "These Questions." So, I just add these beginning and end notes to them. I might change some things here and there, but not really.   
  
--  
  
Beside the fire, they'd talked for hours. The chemistry was incredible, Carter had noted. They talked about everything, from Gamma's driving to crickets. They could be weird around each other, acting like fools and talking about foolish things. They laughed with each other. They enjoyed the other's company. Carter didn't have to question if Abby felt the same; it was apparent that she did.  
  
He felt safe with her. No matter what she told him, she always had something to say. Whether it resolved a problem, or she only said "sorry," he felt better every time. Sometimes he wondered why he was with Susan.  
  
Susan wasn't like this with him. Susan was different. Susan shushed him sometimes with a rushed laugh if she didn't appreciate his behavior. Abby knew everything about him. More than nearly anyone knew. She really was his best friend. He just didn't know why she wasn't more.  
  
She'd gathered onto the couch with Carter when the clock struck midnight. They had watched the fire crackle innocently and violently all the same. Each flame made Carter more aware of the woman next to him. When she shivered, Carter took her hand and together they lay on the floor in front of the fire.   
  
"It's getting late," she said.   
  
"Stay here tonight," he said. "The rain's terrible."  
  
Abby didn't fight, to Carter's happiness. She nodded with a smile and went back to her position on the floor.  
  
"Didn't you have something to tell me?" he said, suddenly remembering.  
  
"Another time," she said sadly.  
  
Soon, he brought a friendly arm around her shoulder. She fell to slumber just a second after that, as Carter did.  
  
-  
  
"John," a voice said.  
  
Abby, gently shaking his shoulder, greeted him with an early smile. The fire had died and the morning gray was bringing them to another day.  
  
"Abby," he said. She had been in his dreams. He felt it immediately.  
  
With an insisting grin, she tugged at him again. "Our shifts start at seven."  
  
"What time is it?" he asked groggily.  
  
"Six."  
  
"God," he said, starting to laugh. "How long were we up talking?"  
  
Abby shrugged with, shaking her head. "Long time."  
  
Carter laughed. "I guess I should hurry and get you home."  
  
"I need my clothes," she said. "You can take a shower at my place if you want to save some time."  
  
Carter nodded. "Okay."  
  
He dashed to his bedroom to collect clothing that he would wear after the shower and joined Abby again. He took her hand and led her to the car outside.  
  
"Do you think Susan will be upset?"  
  
"Why?" he asked, starting the car.  
  
"I stayed overnight," she said.  
  
"We didn't do anything," Carter laughed.  
  
"She doesn't know that."  
  
Carter nodded. Aside that fact, he had also lied to her and said he was going straight to bed at home. He'd only stayed true to the "gone home" part.  
  
"Well," he said, "I think we can keep this night a secret then."  
  
Abby shook her head. "Do you do that to all of your girlfriends?"  
  
"No," he said.  
  
"Just the ones you don't like," she suggested with a serious look on her face.  
  
"What?" he asked with a chuckle.  
  
"Didn't you have plans with her?"  
  
"How did you know that?" he asked suddenly.  
  
"I saw you talking to Susan," she said blankly.   
  
He shrugged. "You're my best friend, aren't you?"  
  
"What does that have to do with this?"  
  
"I'm just saying," he said. "You mean more to me than a dinner with Susan." Or maybe Susan altogether. He bit his lip subconsciously. He wasn't supposed to be thinking like that.  
  
"I shouldn't, John," she said, looking at him now. Her face was read with concern. "I don't want to sabotage your relationships - "  
  
"You aren't sabotaging anything - "  
  
"Then I don't want Susan to think I'm the one who is," she said, "when she finds out."  
  
"She won't find out," Carter claimed.   
  
"There it is, John," she said. "You don't want her to find out."  
  
"What?" What was there to question? She finally understood her point. And it was a good one. No arguing with her at this point.  
  
"You don't want her to find out."  
  
" 'Cause I don't want her to think I slept with you," he said, "or something."  
  
"But still," she said. "You broke off a night with her."  
  
"Because I was tired."  
  
"Because you were with me."  
  
Her words were whispered into his head. She was completely telling the truth. Usually, this is the point where they would be yelling. But he remained calm. He didn't want to fight with her.  
  
"Are you suggesting something?"  
  
"Why weren't you with her last night, John?"  
  
"Because I was with you," he admitted. His eyes were focusing on the pavement ahead, but his mind was a million places more. "What are you thinking?"  
  
Her eyes were on the road as well. "Where does this leave us?"  
  
"Where should it leave us?"  
  
She laughed angrily. "Will you stop with that already?"  
  
Carter laughed as well. "With what?"  
  
"The genius questions," she said with a laugh. They sat in silence for a second.  
  
"You know that I have feelings for you," she said.  
  
Carter swallowed. "No, actually I didn't know that - "  
  
"Yes, yes you did."  
  
Carter turned to her. "Well, what does that mean? Was this whole talk supposed to get me out of my relationship with Susan or something?"  
  
She shook her head. "I want you to be happy." She kneaded one hand with the other. "If Susan is what makes you happy, them I'm glad. But if you're wasting your time with someone you share nothing with, then it doesn't make sense, Carter."  
  
She looked at him, seeking something.   
  
Carter leaned over and kissed her for a second on the lips. It wasn't any fireworks kiss, nothing Hollywood about it, but it wasn't intended to be. It showed her he felt the same.   
  
"I need a shower," she said with a smile.  
  
"Me, too."  
  
--  
  
Kind of twisted, I know.  
  
Thanks for all the reviews, again. You guys are too nice. ;)  
  
I am writing a stand-alone fic to post within another two days, so watch for that!  
  
-me 


	5. Stuck

Hope you enjoyed the last one. As you may have noted, my fics are v e r y cheesy, very fluffy-fuzzy though. I love it, the fuzz I mean. Hope you feel the same. ;)  
  
--  
  
Recap:  
  
She shook her head. "I want you to be happy." She kneaded one hand with the other. "If Susan is what makes you happy, them I'm glad. But if you're wasting your time with someone you share nothing with, then it doesn't make sense, Carter."  
  
She looked at him, seeking something.   
  
Carter leaned over and kissed her for a second on the lips. It wasn't any fireworks kiss, nothing Hollywood about it, but it wasn't intended to be. It showed her he felt the same.   
  
"I need a shower," she said with a smile.  
  
"Me, too."  
  
-  
  
"She's driving me crazy," Carter laughed into the phone.  
  
"You're just saying that," Abby answered with a light giggle.  
  
"You should have seen her today, Abby," he said with another chuckle. "God, she kept flirting in traumas. I started avoiding her. Seriously."  
  
She laughed again. "You're so lost."  
  
"I am," he said. "You gotta help me, Abby."  
  
"It's all you," she said.  
  
They didn't say anything for a while. Just simply knowing that the other was on the phone at that very instant, somewhere in Chicago, or even on earth was enough at that moment. Silence was magic, and it was half of their relationship.  
  
"I'm sick of being without you," she said.  
  
Carter didn't believe what he'd heard. Part of him had, but the other wanted to hear more. Whether the news was good or bad, he wanted more.  
  
"I'm sick of knowing that you're with Susan," she admitted. "I'll be the first to say it, and I'm not afraid to: I'm insanely jealous, John. I want to be with you."  
  
He opened his mouth, but shrank back again at her voice.  
  
"Give me a chance, please," she said. "I think we would be okay together - "  
  
"We would," he broke in. "We're together, Abby."  
  
"What?" she laughed.  
  
"I'm breaking it up with her tonight," he said surely. He had gotten up from his comfortable position on his bed. He was just another kid then with his friend on the phone. Now he was astonishingly aware of everything. "It's over. I want to be with you."  
  
"What?" she repeated.  
  
"I don't want Susan," he said. "I want you."  
  
"Go out to dinner with her," she said. "I'll see you later."  
  
They said their emotionally-stricken good-byes and hung up. He was alone again in his room.   
  
-  
  
"Still up for dinner tonight, Carter?"  
  
He turned around, taking his hands off of his mouth, which stifled his yawn. "Sure am. You ready to go?"  
  
"Yeah," Susan answered. "Just let me go get my coat."  
  
He must have been a good actor. He didn't say anything to Susan about that day with Abby and she was still with him.   
  
They walked out into the ER together, hand in hand. Cautious with Susan around, he had managed to let alone with Abby. He hadn't talked to her, but he had fitted a few smiles around the corner. Nothing more. He didn't know what to do anymore.  
  
Dinner went by slowly. Susan talked about nothing. It wasn't exactly exciting anymore when all he thought about was getting Susan out of his head. He felt like he didn't want to be in a relationship. Not now.  
  
They were at Susan's apartment when the clock rang eleven o'clock. He hadn't slept with her yet, and didn't intend to. He wanted to break it off before it got to the next level. He didn't want to do that with her if he didn't have any feeling for her.  
  
They were on the floor, boredom-stricken with a floor full of cards. Susan was enjoying a game of Go Fish, and to her, he was also. She looked up at him suddenly and spoke.  
  
"I love you," she said simply.  
  
He froze. "What?"  
  
"I love you," she said with a smile. "I love you."  
  
"Oh, Susan," he said. What should he say? He didn't love her! He couldn't say the same thing back. "Susan, I gotta say something."  
  
"What?" Her eyes suddenly took on hurt and awaited his voice.  
  
He began to pick up the cards. "You're a great friend," he said. "You're a great friend. I want to be your friend. I think that's all I could ever be."  
  
She drew a hand to her mouth. When she was aware of her hand there, she stood up to hide her face.  
  
"Susan," he said. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Someone else?"  
  
He shook his head. "Never. I'm not like that."  
  
"Is it Abby?"  
  
He looked at his shoes. "What do you want me to say to that?"  
  
"Have you been with Abby? *Been* with her?"  
  
"God, no," he said, looking slightly upset. "Susan, I don't do that."  
  
She looked away and nodded. "But, is it Abby?" She nodded. "Stuck on her, I knew it."  
  
"I'm not *stuck* on her," he insisted. He swallowed and picked up his coat. "But, I'm not stuck on you, and I know that you can't be stuck on me. You're a great person, and deserve a lot." He opened the door. "I'm sorry, Susan. I am stuck on her."  
  
He walked briskly away from the apartment building. He didn't know *exactly* where he was, but he would figure it out. He searched the street signs, and ran all the way through the night. It was nearly midnight when he reached the place.   
  
"What are you doing here Dr. Carter?" Haleh said.  
  
"I don't know," he said. "I'm working."  
  
"You have the rest of the night off," she said looking at a chart to her left. Squinting, the said, "and tomorrow."  
  
"Let me work," he said.  
  
Haleh raised her eyebrows. "Are you okay?"  
  
"You shouldn't drink at eleven o'clock," Lydia laughed.  
  
"I need to work," he said. "Give me anything. Anything. I need work."  
  
"Diarrhea, times three," Chuny said, passing by with a chart. "Leave whenever you want."  
  
He took it happily and walked into exam one in a glorious mood. He treated the patient, diagnosing and distributing a prescription wisely. After a few more patients he walked up to the desk with his coat around his shoulder. "I think that's all I needed, girls. Thanks."  
  
"Well, you know what they say," Lily said, tittering. "A little poop and puke goes a long way."  
  
--  
  
*A little poop and puke goes a long way...* Thank you, God, for my "writing talent."  
  
=)  
  
Hope you all liked it.   
  
A little more about myself, as if anyone cared, for you. I wanted to tell you this, but you will all think I'm perverted and stop reading my fics.  
  
I'm younger than most of you might suspect. Because of the content in my stories, I mean. You know that I write a little NC-17. I hope that you will continue to read my stories anyway. I enjoy writing. It sucks when your age is what people see first.  
  
-me 


	6. Paralyzed

I haven't updated for a while because my internet card thing was screwed up. Hmm. A while ago I couldn't turn off cap locks, the spell check went retarded, and now this. Wow. I need a new computer...  
  
People with reviews - you guys are amazing! Thanks so much for putting up with me so far. =)  
  
-  
  
Carter stepped outside and into the cold. He thought it would be warmer than the day before, but it was still briskly iced. The air was rough, rather than the smooth, heated he anticipated for. He looked to his feet and kicked them slightly before starting off.  
  
The night before had been a sleepless one. He had thought about everything. There wasn't anything he would rather do than go back to his bed. He wanted to sleep, but it was impossible. He kept thinking about the two women.  
  
Mostly, it was Abby. Abby he was falling for suddenly. Abby he had shared a kiss with. Abby he felt everything for.  
  
Then there was Susan. Susan he had disappointed. Susan who he didn't love. Susan who he didn't want to be with.  
  
He he felt bad, of course, for hurting her. But he wanted to be with Abby. And he couldn't until everything was settled between the two of them. It was moral, just. What did he know about moral and just things? He didn't know. He didn't care, though, as he continued toward the station. He wondered why, of all days, he had chosen to take the L.  
  
It was the longest day he had ever had. Abby was everywhere, literally. She appeared in every trauma, as did Susan. And even when Susan wasn't there, she understood not to do anything. She knew he had to take some time. He hadn't told her about the confrontation with Susan yesterday, but he would. Not here at County, though.  
  
There was a child with a chance of being paralyzed. Susan walked in, to see Carter there already comforting him. He was drifting in and out of consciousness on the bed there and Carter was sitting, holding his hand. His parents were trying to be tracked down at the moment.  
  
"John," she said.   
  
He looked up at her with frowning eyes. "Susan."  
  
She nodded. "I know how you feel about Abby," she said. "The same way I feel about you."  
  
He bit his lip and looked down at the boy. He was unconscious at the moment. His other hand joined his first and held it tighter.  
  
"And," she continued, "I don't want to get in the way of you being happy."  
  
"Susan," he said.  
  
"John," she said, "she's outside. Please talk to her. Let her know."  
  
She hadn't known anything about them. She already did know. But he agreed. He nodded. "Thank you," he said. "And I'm sorry. I had no idea that you - "  
  
Her nodding interrupted him. "I know. It'll take a while, but we'll be friends. Won't we?"  
  
He smiled. "Of course," he reasoned. He took her hand and shook it. "Thanks."  
  
She looked down. "I need to get him upstairs."  
  
"Oh," he said. "Has the swelling in the spinal cord gone down?"  
  
She nodded. "Thank God," she said. "He won't be paralyzed."  
  
Carter breathed out. He'd been with this boy for a while. It was good to know. "And the parents?"  
  
"Still haven't found them," she said. "Babysitter said they went to L.A. for a conference, but their hotel said they've been out all day."  
  
He nodded. He picked himself up from the stool. "I'll see you later."  
  
She smiled and began to ready the boy to travel. He walked out of the room, feeling better. He had finally gotten things resolved. He was ready to sit down and contemplate things for a while. He wanted to be with Abby now. He wanted to, but there was still time to wait out.  
  
-  
  
He boarded the train, and immediately spotted Abby. She had her back turned toward him, with her head bent. She looked awful, even from the behind. Still beautiful, but something was the unfortunate matter with her. He walked up to her and put a comforting hand to her shoulder.  
  
"Hey," he whispered, as she jumped a little from his touch. She whipped around and saw his face. A smile took place in an instant, making him smile as well.  
  
"Hey," she said. It was obvious that she was nervous. She wanted to know what had happened the previous night.  
  
"So," he insisted.  
  
"Haleh and the others said you were at work last night," she laughed. Still nervously.  
  
He nodded. "Complications? Head to a hospital."  
  
She nodded, her smile slightly fading. "What were the complications?"  
  
He shook his head, then looked past her. Turning back to her in a second, he confided, "Susan told me she loved me."  
  
Abby blinked, when her mouth slightly opened. "Oh," she stammered. "Oh. Well, what did you tell her?" She sat down on the given bench and twisted her hands together anxiously.   
  
He sat down beside her. He put his hand on hers, to stop her from what they were doing.   
  
"Oh, God, John," she said. "You love her."  
  
"No," he started instantly. "No, I want to be with you, Abby. I told her I couldn't be with her."  
  
She swallowed, looking at him with a smile. Her laugh was filled with sharp breathing, until finally she let it out and went to hug him. He hugged her back, breathing near her neck. Her hair was next to his face, which was no problem with him. He closed his eyes and lovingly breathed it all in.  
  
"Was it hard?" she asked. They were still in the hug.  
  
"Hard to tell a friend that," he said. "But I'm glad it's all straightened out now."  
  
She hugged him tighter and forced her face into his shoulder. He felt so full of pure joy just to be with her. He put his nose into her coat and strengthened his hold on her waist.   
  
"Are we," she said. The questioning voice had already been activated, the kind where she was nervous. Just as she had been a minute ago. "Are we, um - "  
  
"I want to be with you now," he said.  
  
She laughed again. The sound of her laugh was the kind of laugh someone gave when they were proposed to, or when they had a baby. It was that happy. He expected his sounded the same way. She pulled away to look at his face. They stared at one another, knowing, but not knowing what to do.   
  
"I want to be with you, too," she said. Her eyes were glittering.   
  
The train screeched to a stop. Neither of them noticed when someone pushed them out of the way. Their faces were still staring at the other. They couldn't move. They could barely speak. They were lost, both thinking about something.  
  
Frozen in their standing, Carter leaned forward to kiss her. She welcome it automatically and didn't let go of his shoulders. His hands were on her back, but one of them ventured slowly to her hair. He felt it against his skin and wanted to die in her arms.  
  
She fell against him. They were frozen again. Lying against each other. Paralyzed momentarily.  
  
--  
  
Ha ha. Did you see that double meaning? Not really a good one, but paralyzed fit in two places! Ten points for me.  
  
Again, sorry for not posting earlier. Computer complications. I considered naming this chapter "Complications," by the way.  
  
I thought about maybe mentioning what the next chapter's name would be. To give you a look at what it might be about. If that sounds okay, give me the go. Someone else did it before in their fics, but I didn't like it because it was kind of giving it away.   
  
There are some amazing stories on this site. Sometimes I don't have time to review them because I head to the hospital as a volunteer in the morning. Reading the stories has become a sort of routine for me this summer, and I enjoy them a lot. There's a lot of talent out there, so keep up the *great* work, everyone!  
  
-me 


	7. A Little Nervous

Thanks for all the great reviews - again!  
  
Here goes. I'm going to try and get this one to line up with my others, I mean, get them all up to the same number of chapters. But not now because I'm too tired and my brother wants me to go and watch Harry Potter. :-/  
  
--  
  
Hand in hand, they left the station. Carter was aware of her hand against his at all times. It was the way his skin felt against hers. It was unthinkable; it was a feeling he couldn't believe. There had always been a connection between them, but now it was indescribably complete. He brought their two hands to his chest and held them there for an instant before dropping it back to his side. She sighed happily and leaned into his side.  
  
They walked this way for a few minutes. All the while, they stayed silent. It took a while to believe that the were in fact together. Everything was so fragile, but so strong. Their hands were holding them together physically, but so much more was keeping them together in reality.   
  
They reached her door and he hesitantly released her hand from his. He looked at her eyes, and saw the same reaction in her eyes. He reached down to her level and kissed her sweetly. When they parted, he saw her eyes glittering again. He curled some of her stray tresses safely behind her ear and kissed the top of her head.   
  
"I'll see you tomorrow," he said. He smiled and began down the hallway, instantly yearning for her touch.  
  
"John," she whispered.  
  
He turned around to see her. She was still standing in the same spot, staring at the ground. With a bashful grin, his eyes met hers.   
  
"Do you, um," she started, looking up. She tilted her head toward the door and smiled shyly. "Do you want to come inside?"  
  
He smiled again, and eagerly accepted. "Sure," he said quietly with a nod. She held out her hand, which he took and let her lead him inside. The apartment was exactly as he had remembered it. There was *something* different about it, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He set it aside and watched her as she smiled at him and walked to the bedroom.   
  
"I'll be right back," she said. "I just want to, you know, change. My scrubs probably smell." She blushed at her own remark.  
  
He nodded with a smile again. They were both nervous, palpably. He contemplated what to do now, as he waited for her. He finally decided to sit himself onto one of the chairs in the living room. He sank into it, and rested his chin on his hands. He sat in the dim quiet for an minute or two before she came out.  
  
"Back," she said. She was wearing a simple outfit; just a black turtleneck sweater and brown pants. But still, he couldn't help but stare at her.  
  
He admired the way her hair fell onto her shoulders. Natural and physical beauty took him over for second, not knowing that he was sitting there, just looking at her. Staring was more appropriate a word.  
  
"What?" she asked, looking oddly at him. She looked down and smoothed her shirt. "What is it?"  
  
"Oh, um," he said. He stood up and shook his head. "It's just, uh," he stammered. He didn't know why he was nervous. It was Abby. He had been used to feeling this way. "I'm sorry."  
  
"It's okay," she whispered.  
  
"It's you," he said. "You."  
  
She laughed. "And it's you."  
  
For another thirty seconds, they stared at the other. Both breathing noticeably differently, they smiled at their being weird every so often, until finally Carter edged towards her. She looked tense at the moment and swallowed.  
  
"Sorry," she said.  
  
"What?" he asked, afraid of her turning him down. He wanted to be with her tonight, even if it meant just standing next to her -   
  
"I'm just really nervous," she admitted. He noticed she was knotting her hands together, over and over again. As always. "Aren't you?" She cocked her head and looked deeper into his eyes.  
  
He nodded, but his mind didn't control it. He was still looking at her eyes, and then tracing the locks of brown hair falling around her. She breathed out again and put her arms around his neck.  
  
"I have a feeling I'll get over it, though," she said, sweetly.  
  
Carter nodded again. "Me, too." He put his arms around her waist, and for a second they stood there. Just watching, as they had done countless times.  
  
He bent down to kiss her. She saw him going, and didn't hesitate to join him. She lifted her head up and met his lips. It was, again, magic. Amazing, it was the way the connected.  
  
His hands were through her hair. About her back and on her neck again. She hugged him tighter. When they finally parted, he looked at her and said,  
  
"I think I feel better now."  
  
She nodded. "Me, too." She laughed a little, smiling as Carter did the same. He kissed her again, shorter than the last, but with every bit of feeling as the last.   
  
"I'm hungry," Carter giggled. "Are you?"  
  
She nodded with a strong smile. "Do you wanna order or something, or go out?"  
  
"Let's go out," he said. "Come on."  
  
She smiled again and held up one finger. "One second. I need my coat."  
  
He watched her walk away. He was overjoyed. And it didn't feel odd. He had always heard people mentioning the way they felt about other people. The "love" between them. He didn't believe them. How could you feel that strongly? It existed only in fairy tales.  
  
He wasn't in love with Abby. They had just started going out. Just half an hour ago. But, he knew that she was the real deal. He felt so different about her.   
  
As she came back toward him, he felt a shiver up his spine. She lifted her hair out of her coat and walked to him. He put his hand around her waist and guided her out the door.  
  
--  
  
I always read Carby fics. They're the best. But, I always read that as soon as they're together, they're in love. No offense to those wonderful writers who do that, but I think that love takes time to blossom. I'm only 14 and all, but I think that's how it goes. So, don't take it as a negative sign when it says that he wasn't in love with her. Because he isn't. Yet. ;)  
  
-me 


	8. Blanketed

"Thanks for dinner," Abby remarked shyly as they returned inside. The door opened slowly, allowing them to walk in. She smiled downward to the floor, too bashful to show her giddiness.   
  
"No problem," he said, then added with a laugh, "thanks for coming."  
  
She nodded and closed her eyes as he came toward her. He kissed her gently and smiled, his lips still against hers. She smiled as well. Both of their heads bent automatically, mechanically, and their foreheads met. He looked up to see her looking at him, and grinned.  
  
"Nervous, still?" he asked tenderly, his voice against her face.  
  
She shook her head, and with the same tone, answered, "No."   
  
"Me, either," he said. The quiet - it was tranquil, but suspenseful. They were both longing for each other at the same time. They both realized it. With the tip of their heads still together at the top, his smile slowly faded. She acted as he, and moved her hands around his waist. With a sigh, she watched him blink before doing the same to her.  
  
Their heads separated, and he reached for her face. Her eyes shut again, and he pulled her to a sweet kiss. She hooked her arms around her neck and kissed him back. His hands were all over her back, now, and running up through her hair. She sighed again against his lips and kissed him harder.  
  
He was a little taken back by this move, but he didn't know if he was surprised. One thing was for sure, he wasn't disappointed. Or nervous.  
  
They pulled apart. She was breathing slightly louder. He probably was as well, but distracted himself with a strand of hair in front of her eyes. He pulled it out of the way and kissed her jaw. When he came away from her, he saw that her eyes were closed, still longingly adoring his touch.  
  
"I've got an early shift," he said. "I think I need to get home so I get up early."  
  
She nodded. "What time are you on?"  
  
"Seven." He looked at his hands. "Don't know what I did to deserve it."  
  
She smiled. "I'm on at seven, too."  
  
She was suggesting something. He smiled. "Really?"  
  
"Yeah," she said. "If you want, you can stay here tonight. Just so we can walk to work tomorrow, um, together."  
  
He was still grinning. "I'd like that," he said. He took his coat off. "But I don't have clothes here." He had just realized that. He was too caught by her words that he hadn't noticed the fact.  
  
"Oh," she said. "True."  
  
"Ah, well," he shrugged. "I have a lot of blue shirts and black ties. What are they going start expecting?"  
  
She smiled broadly. She was immediate bit her lip, blushing and shrugged. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Yeah," he whispered. "But we got like five hours to get some sleep, you know - "  
  
"What?" she gasped. She ran over to him and picked up his wrist to see his watch. "Oh, my God, it's already one?"  
  
"Obviously."  
  
She laughed. "I have to get some sleep. Come on."  
  
She began pulling him toward her room, but he stopped her. "Shouldn't I sleep on the couch?"  
  
"Why?" she stammered.  
  
"I don't know," he said. "Because it's polite?"  
  
She shook her head with a smile. "Come on."  
  
He laughed and went after her, as she was already on her way to her room. He was sitting on the bed, when she came into the room with her pajamas on. He smiled as she made her way to the bed, pulling the covers down for the both of them.  
  
She turned the light off, taking herself to the door's neighboring switch before returning to the bed. She then proceeded to the lamp on the nightstand. The small light made the room romantically dim, and she smiled at him one last time before kissing him gently. Carter watched every move she made from the door to the bed and finally when she turned off the lamp again.   
  
"I gotta take off my shirt," he said.  
  
"It's warm in here," she said. "That's the reason I'm wearing a lighter shirt. Something with furnace. Full blast all the time."  
  
"I see," he said. He struggled to take it off in the dark and let it to the floor. He fell back into the bed and yawned. He felt her against him, nestling into his chest. She kissed him once again.  
  
"Couldn't resist," she mentioned with a giggle, while she pulled away.  
  
"They why are you sleeping so far away?" he laughed.   
  
"Because it's hot in here."  
  
"Aha," he said.  
  
"Good night," she said. She sighed and turned to her side. After a second she groaned and began messing with the sheets.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked.   
  
"It's too hot in here," she answered. "I don't want any of these blankets. I'm just gonna sleep on top of them. Sorry, if I took any of yours."  
  
"You didn't," he said. "Sounds like a good idea, though." He began to pull his legs out from under as well. "Feels better."  
  
"Yeah," she said. "Night."  
  
"Night."  
  
Silence again in the dark. There was a stripe of light sliding through the window above the headboard. It was across her bare legs. He found himself wanting to touch her again, but he just smiled. He turned to his side and fell asleep before he could think about anything else. However, subconsciously, Abby was still right beside him.  
  
--  
  
About the whole love thing, not that it makes a difference, but I guess there's a slight chance that you can fall in love with someone if you've known them all your life and everything. Nothing against the writers who believe otherwise; you're writing is what matters on this site, and not your views on everything, really.  
  
In a way, saying "I love you" for the first time is kind of romantic. I'll just keep at that on my side. ;)  
  
Thanks for the kind reviews!! I'm taking a break. I'll be going to Chicago to do some research for my fics. While only 14, I wanna see the Windy City again. It's my second favorite place on earth.  
  
-me 


	9. Early Shift

He was in the middle of the dark. No light, whatsoever. Something was against his foot, and something was above him.   
  
"John."  
  
He felt it against his face. It was her, her breath against his face.   
  
"John," she eased. "You need to get up."  
  
Her lips were upon his. He didn't act back the first time, but there was always a second. She kissed him lightly twice, the second time when he was able to reciprocate. His eyes slowly revealed Abby above his face. Her gentle facade, with her hair curling around it as she bent her head.  
  
"Hey beautiful," he whispered groggily.  
  
"Ha," she said.  
  
"You're perfect," he said. He kissed her again. Her hand met his back and carefully pulled him up. He glanced at the his side and saw the clock on the nightstand. "Abby, it's only four." He put his hands over his face and fell back to the pillow.  
  
"Weaver called," she said apologetically. "We're both on at five. It was either that or four, and I figured you could use one extra hour of sleep - "  
  
"She just called at this time?" he questioned.  
  
She nodded. "Sorry, John. But you gotta get up. You can use the shower, I already did."  
  
He nodded as well and smiled. "Early shift. The best."  
  
"You bet," she said. Sarcasm. It was cute and it worked with them. "Come on, sleepyhead."  
  
He smiled at her once more and kissed the top of her justly dampened hair. He brung his feet to the side of the bed and walked to the bathroom.  
  
--  
  
"We should've walked," he said.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because when the L is late," he said, "it's late."  
  
She shook her head. "Here it comes."  
  
"Okay," he said.  
  
The noise in the distance was muffled, but it became stronger. Stronger until it was the only thing you could hear. He gripped her hand tightly and awaited the stop of the train. It halted abruptly and slid its heavy, old doors to them.  
  
They stood inside, surrounded by the wild, but usual Windy City crowd. The ordinary ride to work on the L. The crazed, but at the same time quiet woman in the corner. The couple who appear to be on a no-talking basis kind of thing, and the man who looks like a serial killer until you look at him. Then he smiles.  
  
Abby was leaning against his chest and closing her eyes. "I'm exhausted."  
  
"I can tell," he said tenderly. "When did she call?"  
  
"About three," she answered.   
  
"You've been up since then?"  
  
She nodded into him. He shook his head and kissed the top of hers. He rubbed her back and pulled her into a one-armed hug. When the train came to a stop, he saw that she was asleep. He laughed to himself and shook her shoulder gently.  
  
"Abby?"  
  
She slid awake immediately. "Sorry," she laughed. She yawned then and closed her eyes briefly.  
  
He picked her up, and she, surprised, became startled and hooked her arms around his neck.   
  
"John," she giggled. "Put me down."  
  
He chuckled. "I'll just carry you there."  
  
"John - "  
  
"Shh," he motioned. She didn't argue after a moment's stare and let her head fall against his neck. It was the best feeling, no matter how much she weighed (which wasn't a lot), no matter how cold it was or how warm.  
  
Cradling her like the precious cargo, as she pretty much was, he kissed her with a smile. She was asleep. Poor thing, he thought. He reached the hospital, and volunteered silently to carry her the rest of the way inside.   
  
"Carter!"  
  
He turned to see Weaver coming toward him, Pratt at her side.  
  
"What's going on?" she asked.  
  
"Is she okay?" Pratt suggested.  
  
"She's fine," he whispered. "Just tired. She's had two hours of sleep."  
  
"Nice," Pratt said, his eyebrows raised.  
  
"Pratt, do you have somewhere to be?" Carter asked.  
  
"Foreign object in the - "  
  
"You promised no more pen-in-the-ass patients, man," Pratt groaned.  
  
"You earned it," she said. With a glare, she had him walking to exam one as she instructed. "I'm really sorry, Carter, but she's gotta get up. We're short a few nurses."   
  
He nodded. "Okay."  
  
"Abby," he said. "Abby." He smiled, remembering the exact routine she had put to him about an hour earlier. He kissed her gently.  
  
"John?" she asked. "How long have I been here?"  
  
He laughed. "We just got here."  
  
"Oh, God," she said. "No one expected anything? Is Susan here?"  
  
"I didn't see her," he said. "The worst it gets is Pratt."  
  
She giggled sleepily and turned her head to the side on the couch. "Errr," she sighed.   
  
"Early shift," he said.  
  
"Yuck." 


	10. Carrying On

Here goes. (Again.)  
  
--  
  
"There you are," Carter said, bringing himself through the lounge door. Abby was alone, on the couch. Her legs were tucked under her.  
  
Smiling, she said, "I couldn't find you when those two kids came in," she said. "The ones in - "  
  
"Cardiac arrest," he smiled. "I remember. Susan pulled me into another room to talk to me."  
  
"About what?" she asked, looking concerned, but more surprised.  
  
"Nothing really," he laughed. "Its not like we did anything. She just wanted to ask me about some guy with lacerations on his face."  
  
"She doesn't know what to do with a few lacerations?" she said, speculating.  
  
He shook his head at her remark. "There was previous damage to his face, and she was afraid she'd get in the way of its recovery."  
  
She nodded, understanding. She stood up with a smile, then yawned. "Want to go get some coffee or something?"   
  
Her attempt to stifle the yawn made him chuckle to himself. "Sure. Doc's?"  
  
"Where else?" she asked with a sweet smile. "Come on."  
  
--  
  
"You carried me from the L today," she said.   
  
He laughed. "You were out, even when the train was moving. How do you work the late shifts?"  
  
She shook her head heavily. "I'm a fighter."  
  
"I'm telling you," he laughed. "You were out in like a second. I swear."  
  
She shrugged. "Thanks for carrying me to work." She giggled.  
  
He giggled as well and took a sip of his coffee. "You deserved it."  
  
She rubbed his hand with hers, and yawned again. "You almost done?" She turned her wrist toward her to catch the time, then pushed her sleeve back over it and watched him finish the last of his coffee.  
  
"Done," he said happily. "Let's go."   
  
She smiled as he picked her up by her hand. She giggled to herself as he pulled her out of the door and down the street. Detouring into the alley, they stood in the dark for a second. Smiling, they were pulled into a kiss.  
  
It was bliss. They were still smiling, making the kiss more special. They were happy.  
  
For once, Carter was genuinely happy.  
  
"Wait," Abby said, pulling apart from the kiss. Her eyes were still closed, but she opened them, breathing heavily to meet his. Squinting slightly, she asked, "Did anyone see you carry me in today?"  
  
Carter shrugged. "A few people. Why?"  
  
"Aw, John," she whined, hitting his chest lightly with her fist.  
  
"What?" he asked, confused.  
  
"Now they're going to start saying stuff," she whimpered on.   
  
Carter laughed aloud, to which Abby looked astounded. "What would they say? That we're dating?"  
  
She knew he was going somewhere with this comment, so she stopped.   
  
"I'm proud of you Abby," he said, with a completely joyously spread smile. "I'm glad to be with you. I'm more than glad. I don't care what they say. Don't you feel the same?"  
  
She bit her lip and leaned into his chest. "Of course," she said. "I'm happy to."  
  
He hugged her, giggling slightly. Her small arms made their way around to his back where they met. They hugged. It was bliss - again. He reached down to her head and kissed her sweetly.  
  
"Want to go back to your place?" he asked.  
  
She nodded. "Let's go."  
  
And again they made their way to Abby's apartment. Halfway there, Carter stooped down to pick her up. She laughed, and then eventually he joined her. By the time they arrived at Abby's apartment, she was asleep in his arms again.  
  
He opened the door to her apartment with the key she held in her hand. He kicked it gently with his foot, bringing it to a full open. He made his way to the bedroom and placed her on the bed.   
  
She was beautiful.  
  
He kissed her forehead and then her nose. He smiled, brushing back the falling hair about her face, and patted her stomach before turning to leave.  
  
"John," she said.  
  
He turned, startled, and saw her with a smile. "Yeah?" He wore his own smile now.  
  
She looked down shyly, then back up. "Stay."  
  
--  
  
Ha. Ha. Sly, there, Abby.  
  
This was a very short chapter...  
  
-me 


	11. Paged

He smiled and looked to his right. Her face was against his chest, breathing into it softly. He remembered all of the other nights, where he'd been with other women. He'd felt great in the morning, usually, but wanted to get up. Even if it was to make her breakfast or to rub her feet or something, he wanted to get up.  
  
But with Abby, he also wanted to lie here with her. She was so perfect. He laughed at the thought of he, John Carter, calling someone perfect. He looked at her, though, and the laughter faded away. He made her comfortable. He wasn't nervous. Last night was the most wonderful thing between them, because it had been just like every other situation between them. It was tender, soft, and they took it slow. Both were nervous, sure, but they had had a rocky history.   
  
He breathed out lightly, making her stir. He rubbed his thumb over her shoulder, easing her back into sleep for her sake. She shifted a little, then looked up to see him. He smiled, as she did and kissed her nose.  
  
"Good morning," he said. "How are you?"  
  
She nodded, kissing his chin. "Great. You?"  
  
"Same," he whispered. He reached down again and kissed her. It was soft again. It wasn't awkward anymore. He loved this, being in a fun relationship. But it was a relationship. And for once he wasn't so afraid.   
  
"I want to lie like this," she said. "I love this."   
  
He laughed and wrapped his arms around her under the sheet. He embraced the feel of her bare skin against his and smiled. "I was thinking the same thing."  
  
She put her face into his neck and kissed it. "Last night was..." She laughed at her loss of words.  
  
"It was," he said with a small chuckle himself. He couldn't believe how free he felt. Free, happy, excited: it was Abby he was with.  
  
"We make a good couple," she said nervously, "don't we?"  
  
He was astonished by her sudden anxiousness. She looked up at him, her eyebrows arched, depicting her feelings.  
  
"I think so," he laughed. "Why?"  
  
She eased into a smile and closed her eyes, hugging him to her. "I just wanted to know if you felt the same. 'Cause I kinda like you."  
  
"I kinda like you, too," he laughed. He kissed her forehead and left his lips against it for a minute. His hands were still around the waist of the woman beside him. He could mumble on about her for hours, forever. It was the most wonderful thing to be with her. He couldn't imagine being without her, without that feeling. Like elastic. They were inseparable.   
  
"So," she said with a smile to the ceiling. "We can be open with this? We don't have to hide it."  
  
He shook his head and smiled. "No. I'm glad."  
  
"Me, too," Abby said.  
  
His pager went off from the room, where his pants had been tossed from the night before. He bent slightly, lifting it from the ground. With a smile on his face, recognizing Abby's hand on his chest, he turned the pager over and read the screen.  
  
When his frown appeared, Abby came closer to him. Her body was up against his, softly pressing to him. "What is it?"  
  
He shook his head and chuckled a little. "Weaver wants me."  
  
"No," she whined. She smiled and snuggled up to him. "Do you have to?"  
  
"Yeah," he laughed. "Yeah, kind of." He got up from the bed and looked back at her. She was sprawled over his previous resting spot, with her cheek propped on her hand.   
  
She smiled. He smiled back, then ran to her to kiss her. She laughed as they did, and touched the back of his head lovingly. He pulled away slowly. She immediately returned to his lips and touched them with a gentle finger. She smiled ever broader and went to kiss him. "Have fun then."  
  
"I will." He curled hair behind her ear as he said, "But I'll miss you more."  
  
"I'll miss you," she said. "For an hour. I'm on soon."  
  
He laughed. "Then we are making a big deal out of it, right?" He started pulling on his pants now.  
  
She pulled on a longer shirt from a drawer next to the bed. She smiled, her hair messed as her head came through. "With you? I don't think so."  
  
He laughed and jumped onto the bed.   
  
"What are you doing, John?"  
  
"The movie/television thing," he laughed. "You know, where they hop on the bed and tickle the girlfriend while she screams?"  
  
"I don't do that," she laughed.  
  
"Oh," he said, tickling her all the same.  
  
--  
  
"Hey, Abby," Susan called.   
  
She turned around to Susan, coming her way. Susan looked at her and opened her mouth slowly.  
  
"Abby," she said, "I just wanted to say congratulations with you and John."  
  
"Oh," Abby whispered, looking down.  
  
"And I wanted you to know," she said quietly, "that I don't want things to be awkward between us."  
  
Abby smiled smugly and nodded. "Me either."  
  
Susan smiled, but unfortunately it wasn't enough to keep her in a real mood. "You're a lucky girl," she said, "and he's a lucky guy."  
  
"Thank you." She held out her hand and shrugged lightly.  
  
Susan shook it strongly and then let it go to take her own hand.  
  
"Did you want to go get some coffee, or something?" Abby asked semi-sympathetically. "I'm off in about fifteen minutes, if you want."  
  
Susan shook her head. "Thanks, but I think I have a date at home with my couch. I've been here for a while."  
  
"Okay," Abby said, with a small hint of a laugh. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"  
  
"Yeah." Susan waved to her and walked away. "See you tomorrow."  
  
--  
  
I don't know if its too out of character for Susan, but I don't really know her that well. I mean, her character. I really don't know any of them that well. Let me know if they don't particularly fit their profiles and stuff.  
  
It's Thursday! ;) I'm watching "Friends", later "ER!"  
  
-me 


	12. Talk With One, Talk With Another

"Did she get upset?" Abby asked across the table. "She seemed a little edgy with me."  
  
"No," Carter said. "Maybe it just wasn't her day."  
  
"Well," Abby said. "I already figured that."  
  
Carter nodded and turned his attention to the pair of pepper and salt shakers at the end, near the wall of the table. He picked up the pepper without any reason, apparent or not, and let it down again. "It's been hard for her lately."  
  
"With all the," Abby said, then stopped. "You know."  
  
He nodded again. To make this moment symmetrical, he should have picked up the salt. "Yeah. I know."  
  
They were quiet. It was as if they owed her some respect , even though she wasn't there. He held her hand now, without looking at it. She gripped it adoringly back, and also kept her eyes on the undefined pattern on the table.  
  
"Where's our coffee?" he said, sighing.  
  
"Where's our food?" she said, raising the word 'food.'  
  
He shrugged and smiled. "I'm hungry." He looked away. "I felt awful. When I went to speak with her I mean."  
  
"I know," she said, gripping his hand again. "I'm sorry."  
  
He shrugged again. "It's good to have you here."  
  
She turned up her bottom lip into a smile. "It's not so bad being here."  
  
He nodded heavily and scratched the back of his head. His own hand felt warm against his skin, and he breathed out as she traced his knuckles with her hand.   
  
"You're great," she said. "You didn't do *anything* bad, you know."  
  
He nodded. "I know." He shook his head. "I would have been happy to have her. I just wish I didn't have to give her away. I wanted to be with her."  
  
"I know you did," she said.  
  
He breathed out again. "It's hard giving someone like that up. Sometimes they really take you away and you don't notice it, I guess, until it's too late."  
  
She shook her head. "I know." She looked up as the waitress approached them.  
  
"Excuse me," the woman said.  
  
Carter looked up now as well.   
  
"Your lunch should be out in about twenty minutes," she said with a polite, but completely transparent smile. "We're sorry for the wait."  
  
"You know what," Carter said, standing up, "we're gonna see about going somewhere else. We've been waiting here for a while now."  
  
She nodded. "Okay, I'm sorry."  
  
Abby smiled as Carter, frustrated, stood up. She took his hand, which he eagerly took the same, and together they walked outside.  
  
"It's just," Carter stuttered, "I thought I would be with her until the end, you know?"  
  
She nodded. "I know."  
  
"I never noticed she was there," he said. "I mean, I saw her. Just didn't realize how I really saw her."  
  
She nodded again. "I'm sorry."  
  
He shook his head. "And now it's too late."  
  
"Maybe not," she said. She looked up at him with cautious eyes. "Maybe you should go see her."  
  
He looked up and shook his head. "No, I can't."  
  
"Yeah you can, John."  
  
He finally nodded his head and kissed her cheek. "I want to see her before she leaves."  
  
"Go," she said. "I'll see you later."  
  
He turned on one foot and walked swiftly to the ambulance bay. He waited for himself to gather enough strength and walked through the doors with a pair of hands nervously intertwining.  
  
"Where's Danielle?" he asked Haleh. "Little girl, came in with the tumor in her leg. Getting tranferred to the children's hospital?"  
  
"Curtain area three."  
  
"Thanks," he said. He ran to the spoken location and opened the curtain to see her waiting in the bed. She was weakened from all of the treatment given to her in different parts of the hospital. She'd been nearly everywhere, he suspected.  
  
"Sorry for running out on you earlier," he said.  
  
"You had a date with the nurse," she whispered with a smile. "I don't care."  
  
"I should have been here with you, sweetheart."  
  
She shook her head. "My mom and dad should."  
  
He bent his head. 'They're busy,' was the only think he could think of to say. But who was too busy to see their daughter, diagnosed with cancer? "The nurses are trying to find them." It was a lie, but she knew it. And he knew it.  
  
"Miracle's ambulances are here," Lydia said, opening the curtain a bit more.   
  
"I'll see you later," Danielle said. "Thanks."  
  
He nodded and turned to see Abby coming through the door. He grabbed her hand and they walked away again. He held her tight, now, as she put her arm around his waist.  
  
"You're a good guy."  
  
--  
  
:)  
  
Someone, I think Em, mentioned the "bad acting" on Sherry Stringfield's half.   
  
Thank you.  
  
I didn't want to say it before, because although I figured pretty much everyone reading my fics were Carbys, I knew that there were still Susan fans. I like Susan; she's okay. But, in my opinion, she's NOT the best actor.   
  
Enough beating.   
  
-me 


	13. GSWs Are Always Funny

Hey. Last chapter was something I wrote at like 4:45 in the morning, so I don't know really what I was thinking. It's just a trick thing kind of chapter. You thought he was talking about Susan, but he was talking about a little girl that he had left at County. She had a tumor.  
  
I know it sounds like a useless chapter, but the idea was to show you that they were strong. They were in a strong realtionship in spite of everything that had happened with Susan. And they were comfortable with it.  
  
Make sense? I hope so. I saw that some people got it. ;) Craaaack the coooode. (Inside joke for Molly and Betsy.)  
  
  
By the way, I've brung back a few characters. I want Mark, Peter, Dr. Dave, and a few others back. That okay? Good.  
--  
  
He walked into County with a smile on his face. He was in a great mood. Abby was at his side, blushing as she held his hand for comfort. She smiled for no reason, but just because she was happy. Carter knew; he felt the same way.   
  
"Hey," Chuny said, nudging Conni as the two approached the desk. "Look at the happy couple."  
  
Abby blushed slightly again and bowed her head. Carter put an arm around her shoulder and gently stroked it with his fingers. "Don't you guys have work to do?"  
  
Chuny said, laughing, "Look around, Carter. What do you see?"  
  
"Completely *empty,*" Haleh said. "We've had *no* traumas, and four hits."  
  
"Seriously?" Abby laughed, looking toward the board. "Oh, my God, you're serious."  
  
Chuny laughed again. "Yeah, everyone's around her somewhere."  
  
"Yeah," Lily said, shaking her head. "Gurney and wheelchair races down the hall."  
  
"Ooh," Abby joked, "sounds fun."  
  
"Crutch fencing?" Carter said, looking at the board once again.  
  
"Not yet," Lily said. "Don't give them any ideas."  
  
Carter chuckled to himself with a grin. "And I'm sure Weaver's having a ball as well."  
  
"Yeah, right," Abby said.  
  
"She took her break about five minutes ago."  
  
"Hey, Dr. Carter!"  
  
"Malucci," he said, laughing. "I'm sure you're the one who turned this place into an amusement park."  
  
"Care to join?" he asked, gesturing toward the mess of wheelchairs speeding toward the lobby area. Gallant and Mark were making their way down the hall in a second.  
  
"Um," he sniggered, "maybe later."  
  
Abby shrugged and smiled at Dave.  
  
"Is that Benton?"  
  
Lydia laughed and looked over to see Peter coming over to them in his own wheelchair. "A little on the slow side, I guess."  
  
Peter looked at her with a smug laugh. "Nothing else to do."  
  
Lydia shook her head. She walked into the lounge with Conni to get some coffee.  
  
"Come on," Carter said. "Let's go." He tugged at Abby's sleeve to bring her away from the desk. When she smiled and began to follow him, the desk went wild.  
  
"Woo hoo!" they hollored, jokingly. "Carter and Abby in exam two!"  
  
"Ha," Carter said. Abby was giggling by now. They came into the exam room and he sat her down on the bed in front of them. He kissed her sweetly, then ran to close the blinds.  
  
"Weaver's not here," she said with another giggle. He smiled back, and walked to her with his arms around her. She breathed out, happily, and kissed his nose.  
  
"Yeah," he said. "But isn't it more exciting this way?"  
  
She shrugged. Her face was an inch away from his. "Yeah, if you want to get caught by your boss. The whole desk is gonna have their fun with this." She laughed quietly.  
  
"Well," he said with a kiss. "Let them."  
  
She smiled and leaned in eagerly for a kiss. They sat there for a second, blissfully giggling into a kiss, until they were interrupted with an anxious rap on the window.  
  
"Aw," she said. "Come on."  
  
He laughed and opened the door.  
  
"Chuny," he chuckled, "we're a little busy. Try again later." Abby met him and put her arm around his waist with an innocent smile as he closed the door.  
  
Chuny caught it with her hand, however, and pulled them both out. "First trauma of the day."  
  
"Ah," Abby said. "That sucks."  
  
Carter chuckled and brought her out with him again. He sped toward trauma one, and as he arrived, Abby assisted him in putting his gown on. He, in turn, helped her and both joined the small crowd already working on him.  
  
"Twenty-three year-old male," someone called over the noise. "GSW to the abdomen." She went on, rambling all of the situation's details in the fancy medical language he'd come accustomed to for so long. He looked at Abby over the gurney, but she was obviously involved with her job. He smiled to himself, thinking of her.  
  
"Yeah," Mark said suddenly in his ear. "GSWs are always funny."  
  
"No," he said with a slight chuckle, as he checked back on the monitor behind him. "It's something else."  
  
"Got it," Mark said. "Stable."  
  
"Yay," Haleh muttered. "County Olympics, I presume."  
  
Malucci burst through the door. "What?"  
  
"County Olympics, she said," Abby explained.  
  
"Hell yeah!" Malucci said with a grin. "Let's go!"  
  
"Ass," someone murmured.  
  
"Ha," he answered. "Let's go."  
  
Everyone slowly followed him out, removing their disposable trauma wear. Abby and Carter stayed behind to prep the man to go upstairs.   
  
"You saved him," she said. "Did you notice?"  
  
"Huh?" he asked, turning to her. He brushed a single strand of hair away from her eyes. She put her arms around his neck.  
  
"You saved him," she said with a laugh. "Didn't you notice?"  
  
He laughed. "No, no I didn't."  
  
She looked at him oddly, cocking her head. "You okay?" She put her hand up to his head. He grabbed it and took the other one to kiss each wrist playfully.   
  
"Fine," he said with a smile. "Want to go have a wheelchair race?"  
  
"No," she said with a laugh. "I think you can do better than that."  
  
He shrugged. "You're picky."  
  
"Yeah," she joked, "I'm sure that's the problem."  
  
He shrugged, once more and gripped her hand, taking her outside to the lobby where he called Haleh to finish the body. She nodded in confirmation and took off.   
  
Carter calmly walked around the corner, Abby at his side. When they turned out of sight from the others, they hurried down the hall. They were both smiling as they rushed, mumbling stupid things to each other.   
  
They reached their final destination: the roof. With the door opened, they stood together at the top. Carter quickly leaned in for a cute kiss on her lips, to which they both smiled. It was full of everything they felt for the other.  
  
The faint sound of siren pulled them away. Abby watched him throw his head back in smiling frustration. She kissed his neck lightly and put her arms around him. He brought his head back and looked at her smile. She leaned in, still grinning, and gave him a hug.   
  
"I'm happy with you," she sighed. "I love being with you. Thank you."  
  
He was a little stunned with her words. Maybe "stunned" wasn't the word. He was a little taken back by her confession, though, and didn't know really what to say. She was genuinely happy. And so was he.   
  
"I love being with you, too." He kissed the top of her head with a chuckle. "You make me happy."  
  
She hugged him tighter and put her face into his chest.  
  
--  
  
There you go. Have some more meaningless Carby fluff-fuzz to fall peacefully asleep to.  
  
-me 


	14. All Day

A little more cuddle for ya.  
  
--  
  
He brought her even closer to his body, taking in her scent. No matter where she was: in his bed with her on the weekend, at County in scrubs, or at a fancier restaurant sharing dinner with him. She was always Abby. He didn't dislike a single thing about her. He understood her every move, as she did he.  
  
She pulled him close, revealing that she was awake to him. He smiled, kissing her forehead. Immediately, she reached up and kissed his neck.   
  
"Day off," he mumbled. "What are we gonna do all day?"  
  
"This," she whined. "Let's just do this all day."  
  
He chuckled against her cheek. Kissing it again, he said, "You're lazy."  
  
"I don't care."  
  
He brought the comforter down a bit, settling it around her shoulders. He stroked her shoulders with one finger, tenderly as she closed her eyes yet again. Her skin was so soft. It was the same skin he caressed each night before they slept. She would giggle, making his heart stop.   
  
She kissed his bare chest, causing him to close *his* eyes now. He sighed against her and brought his hand up her back.   
  
"Want breakfast?" he asked, stepping from the bed. He pulled on boxers from his drawer as she picked herself up, still in the bed.  
  
"No," she whined. "Come back."  
  
"We have to get up," he laughed.   
  
"Okay," she gave. She got up from her bed and stepped toward him. She hugged him for a second, from behind him as we continued to pull on his pants, and then let go to dress herself.  
  
She walked around the room, naked, searching for her clothes. He laughed aloud as she did so.  
  
"What?" she smiled.  
  
"It's just funny," he said, "watching you look for your clothes naked."  
  
She laughed a little too.  
  
"Not saying I don't enjoy it, but you know."  
  
"Ha." She picked up her bundle of clothes on the floor and walked out of the door. "I'm taking a shower."  
  
"Can I come?"  
  
She shrugged. "I don't care."  
  
He looked at her suspiciously, then witnessed a small, but nearly seductive smile play across her lips. He grinned goofily and followed her, still in just boxers to the bathroom.  
  
"You're serious?" he asked.  
  
"Do you take showers in boxers?" she asked, reaching into the shower to start the water.  
  
"No," he said. "I just - "  
  
"Come on," she said with a shy smile.   
  
--  
  
"Oh, God," Lydia said. "Look who's here."  
  
"Ha," Abby said simply. "Have we been this busy all day?"  
  
"All day?" Chuny said, looking at the clock. "Honey, it's nine o'clock in the morning. There hasn't been much day."  
  
"Maybe they didn't get much sleep," Conni suggested, raising a brow.  
  
"Alright, alright," Carter said, holding up his hand. "Get to work."  
  
"Whatever you say, Dr. Carter."  
  
Abby smiled as he slipped his arm around her waist. She looked down bashfully, as Carter came to kiss her head. He leaned is face into her hair as they walked toward the lounge.  
  
"Now that's a cute couple." Haleh said, turning to see Susan frowning to the counter.   
  
"Yeah," Susan muttered. She walked away with a few charts and a meal ticket. "I'm getting breakfast."  
  
--  
  
"Come here," Carter said. "Come here."  
  
She walked over to him with a questioning look on her face. She had just slipped off her coat to put it in her locker. "Yeah?"  
  
He shrugged and pulled her toward him. She laughed as they met in a kiss. Her hands went to his face, as his caressed her back. She smiled and hugged him again.   
  
"Thanks," she said sarcastically. "Now it will be easier when I see you around the hospital and I can't even touch you."  
  
He chuckled and kissed her again. "You're so beautiful." He lifted a hand to touch her cheek, but she gently moved it away.  
  
"Stop it," she laughed.  
  
"What?"  
  
She laughed again, lightly. "The sweet talk. I hate it. I don't need any - "  
  
"Sweet talk?" he asked, snickering. "I don't do the 'Cupcake' or 'Pumpkin' name deal, if that's what you mean."  
  
She smiled. "So you just think I'm pretty," she said quietly, looking down.  
  
"Beautiful," he said. She looked up and smiled. He put his arms around her waist once again and kissed her with a quick jab and turned to the door. "See you at noon?"  
  
She grinned and nodded. "Thank you."  
  
--  
  
The end of the day. All he wanted to do was see Abby. She was nowhere to be found. He hadn't checked everywhere, though, so she was around here somewhere. The ER maze was something familiar, but he hadn't gotten anywhere yet.  
  
He was aware now of a blanket of perspiration above his brow. It suddenly occured to him that the ER was without air conditioning for some reason. He pulled at the collar of his lab coat, then sighed as he went to the lounge.  
  
The door was cool as his hand touched it. Cool enough to recognize it, but not cool enough to let his hand linger for an instant.  
  
Weaver smiled as she made her way past him. " 'Night, Carter," she said.  
  
He nodded and replied the same. In the lounge, he took of his lab coat and loosened his tie. He wiped his hand over his face, as if to drain the exhaustion from it. Fat chance.  
  
"Hey," someone said.   
  
"Hey, Susan," he said, unenthusiastically.   
  
She frowned and crossed her arms. "How are the two of you doing?"  
  
"Great, actually - "  
  
"Hey John," Abby said, coming through the door.  
  
Susan looked away as Carter's face lit up with pure joy. Abby reached up for his neck and pulled him into a small, quick kiss. They both smiled.  
  
"Susan," Abby said kindly. "How are you?"  
  
"Good," she said, then she moved out of the path and into the doorway. It swung to a shut and the two were left alone.  
  
They sat in silence.  
  
"Ready to go?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
--  
  
Cruel to Susan? She's a lovely girl, really. But, in the Carby aspect, she postponed the two of them getting together for a while.  
  
Has anyone else heard this? Noah Wyle is leaving in the tenth season! No! Someone please tell me its just a rumor, that I'm wrong! Oh, pleeeeeaaaaase! If Maura Tierney won't leave the same time, that means they probably won't get together, doesn't it? No! Someone please tell me Wyle's staying! They can't really have another Doug/Carol happy ending, can they? It's a drama!  
  
I think they should have Noah stay anyway into the end. He's like the base of the show. The root. Does anyone else see this? "Exodus," "The Good Fight," and "Lockdown." He's the hero. You can just tell that he's the one of the show. Starting out there, he's the only one left of the original group. I hope the tenth season is the last of ER, then. I can't bear to see him leave without Abby by his side. I can't see him leave, altogether!  
  
Hope you all found that I left out this chapter before. My mistake. (Who else?) So, read this one, then please read the one after it. I changed a few things. Kind of big... but not really.  
  
-me 


	15. Either Way

"John," Abby said.  
  
"Hmm?" he replied, looking out the window, then to her gaze.  
  
"I have something that I have to, uh," she fumbled with her hands nervously. "I have something to tell you."  
  
He leaned back in his seat, then forward again. "What is it?"  
  
She breathed out and closed her eyes. "I think I'm pregnant."  
  
"What?" he asked. "How do you - "  
  
"I'm three days late," she said.   
  
"Did you take a test yet?" he asked, taking her hand.  
  
She shook her head. "I can't believe this is happening."  
  
"Whoa," he said, warming her hands with his own. "We don't know that anything is happening."  
  
She took her hands and put her face into them. "Damn contraceptives. Don't make them if they don't work."  
  
He chuckled.  
  
"Its not funny," she said from the base of her hands.  
  
"No, maybe not," he said. "But its nothing to cry over."  
  
She didn't say anything. She breathed more harshly, but barely noticeably.  
  
"It's a baby."  
  
"Exactly," he said. "Its a good thing."  
  
She looked up, a fainter side of doubt. "To married couples, John. To people in love, or engaged. We haven't reached any of those points."  
  
He shurgged and took her hand from her face. "Come on," he said. "We can get through anything. We've gotten this far, haven't we?"  
  
She shook her head. "Its not that easy, its a baby."  
  
He smiled. "Yeah."  
  
"How are you so calm?"  
  
He looked at her worried expression. "Because it's gonna be alright. Sure, its different. Its a little scary. But, hey - we're having a kid. We can make it work."  
  
"There's something else."  
  
"Something else?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.  
  
She looked away again, for a second. Her gaze met the table. "When I was married to Richard, I had an abortion."  
  
His lips were barely parted as he heard her. Immediate feeling for her entered him, seeing the pained emotion on her face. She ran a hand through her hair.  
  
"Oh," he stammered. He didn't know what to do. So he froze. He froze dead in one spot and waited for her to make the move. He wanted her to take control, be the adult until he knew exactly what to do.  
  
But that was his job. "I didn't know, Abby - "  
  
"No one does," she said quietly. Her hands met, near trembling, together in front of her. He took them and held them.   
  
Closed eyes, he said, "God, I'm sorry." He was at a loss completely for words. He didn't know what to do, so he let his heart speak. Truly. "Um... why?"  
  
She shrugged, upset. "My mom, you know."  
  
"Her being sick," he said. Oh, God, he thought. No. "Its a baby, Abby."  
  
Her head was still hung. She didn't move.  
  
"You're gonna love it either way." He got up and slid over to her side of the booth. As soon as he sat next to her, she put her head in his shoulder. He rested a comforting hand on the back of her neck, and moved toward her. She balled her fists together under her chin.   
  
Carter felt like crying.  
  
"You're right," she said suddenly. "You're right. I'm still scared, but - "  
  
"But you have every reason to be," he said. He rubbed her back. "Its gonna be okay though."  
  
--  
  
"What did you say?" the woman asked. "What's my girl got in her?"  
  
Her daughter pulled on her own hair with a nervous hand. "Forgive my mom. She's a little out of it."  
  
"I'm totally in," her mother responded confidently. "Think before you speak, Jen, haven't I always told you that?"  
  
Carter watched as Jen rolled her eyes.  
  
"Now," the mother continued. "What's she got in her?"  
  
"Jen is pregnant," Carter said. "Just four weeks along."  
  
Jen's mother shook her head. "No, she's not. Because she's not fat."  
  
"She's only one month pregnant," Carter said. "You shouldn't see any weight effect for about another month or so."  
  
"Are you sure?" Jen asked, hitting one hand with the other. Her mother pulled one arm aside, motioning for her to stop. "I only had, um, sex one time. And we used protection."  
  
"You're lying, Jen," her mother argued. "Otherwise you wouldn't be pregnant."  
  
"Actually," Carter said, knowingly, "contraceptives are sometimes only ninety-six or ninety-seven percent affective."  
  
"Ew," her mother said at once. "You - " she looked around the room. "You *did it?*"  
  
Jen rolled her eys and stuck her face in her hands. Carter saw her expression and asked Chuny to take her mother out of the room for a second. She reluctantly agreed and let Chuny escort her to chairs.  
  
"She's so embarrassing," Jen whispered. She ignored her behavior for a second. "I hate it when she does that." She paused and cracked her knuckles on the left hand. "Do I have to kill it?"  
  
"Of course not," Carter said, sympathetically. "But, you are thirteen. And its a hard decision to make. You could give it up for adoption if you don't think you're a suitable parent."  
  
"My mom had four abortions," she said. "Said that it never hurt her."  
  
"That may be true," he said. He didn't know if he really felt that way.   
  
"What would you do?"  
  
"Well," he sighed, "I'd go with my gut feeling. Whatever it told me, I'd do."  
  
"What would it tell you?"  
  
"You know," he said, "How about a I bring your mom in here?"  
  
"I don't want to talk to her."  
  
"You're going to want to be close to your mom," he said, reasonably. "Whatever you choose, your mom is going to help you."  
  
Jen nodded. "Maybe."  
  
"Maybe your mother can help you make a choice."  
  
She shook her head. "You said 'go with your gut.'"  
  
He shrugged and nodded.  
  
She smiled. "I can raise this baby," she said. "My boyfriend and I are in love."  
  
Oh, no, he thought. Thirteen and her boyfriend was going to raise a baby with her? Something had to go wrong every once in a while.   
  
"I can't give this baby away," she said, in tears. "I love it."  
  
He nodded. "Then," he said, "why don't I bring back your mom here and you can talk to her about your decision, okay?"  
  
"Thank you, Dr. Carter," she said.  
  
He smiled and walked out of the room. Throwing a clipboard casually to the desk, he continued to the lounge. Before he could reach the knob, Abby appeared inside, opened the door and dragged him inside.  
  
"Whoa," he said. "Hey."  
  
She smiled. "I, um, I - "  
  
"Took the test?" he asked nervously.  
  
She nodded, anxious, and looked past him. Bringing her eyes back, she said, "I'm not pregnant."  
  
A brief silence and then, "Oh."  
  
"Yeah," she said.   
  
"Well," he said. He didn't know what to say again. Maybe there wasn't anything to say this time. Maybe nothing in words could sum up what he was feeling. But, then again, what was he feeling? Was he happy, because there was no baby? Or, maybe he wasn't so happy. He hadn't been looking forward to it, had he?  
  
There wasn't anything he could say. And neither could she. He pulled her into a hug. She put her face into his arm.  
  
--  
  
I really listened to the people on this one. I went back and read it. I hated this chapter. Otherwise, I wouldn't have changed it. I barely **ever** change my stories, but looking back, I completely despised it. It was too fake, and Carter's illegal way was more Doug. (Even Doug wouldn't have done it, probably.)  
  
Another person noted that my 'apparently' might lead to something.   
  
Oh, you funny, funny people. ;)  
  
Also, I goofed up with chapters. This chapter was supposed to be number fifteen, so I just inserted the other meaningless one before this one. I hope you all caught that. (Don't know how you wouldn't, seeing as the number of chapters change...) But if for some reason you came to this one, read the one before to be officially caught up.   
  
-me 


	16. Crash

"You've got to believe its getting better, getting better all the time."  
  
The song from the Phillips commericals. Real, or fake?  
  
Hey, I heard that they're broadcasting this premiere at the same time all around the world. True or false? Also, I couldn't help it. I read the spoilers for the first four episodes. Don't worry! I won't hint anything.  
  
--  
  
He stood in front of the sink, looking down into the basin's pool of water. It was oddly clear. The temptation to reach into it and pull every ounce to his aching face was actively unable to ignore. He became aware of Abby's sleeping form in the room next door. He frowned and looked harder into the mirror.  
  
He had just arrived from one of the longest shifts he'd ever experienced. Technically, it was only seven hours long. But he'd done too much thinking. Things were starting to scare him. And he didn't know why.  
  
He'd been waiting too be with Abby for the longest time. Why the doubts now? Why did he feel this way?  
  
He knew why. Or, he knew a reason. Was he falling in love with her? There was no such thing of love, as far as he was concerned. He was convinced to that manner, for a while at least. When he'd started going out with Abby, he didn't think that his theory could be so true. But, he felt trapped, confused now.   
  
Was he falling in love with her?  
  
The water finally crashed to his face, bringing him none of the relief promised. His face was pale, being so freshly cleaned. He squinted, squeezing his eyes together in hope to regain strength. When he opened them, he found the same figure with pursed lips in the mirror.  
  
He turned away and heard Abby stir in her sleep. There was only the dim light of the bathroom, the water running down his face, and the pitiful reflection in the mirror now. And the sound of Abby breathing so peacefully next door. Was that a good thing?  
  
Was he falling in love with her?  
  
He shook his head. Was it an attempt to shake the thoughts from his mind? Did he want that to happen?  
  
What was he supposed to do? If he was falling in love with her, wasn't this supposed to be a good thing? Why was he so frightened of love. Wasn't love supposed to be the most remarkable thing on earth?   
  
When he held her hand, he wanted to take it as his forever. When she giggled at their sarcastic remarks, he wanted to sit and smile at her. Tell her she was beautiful until he died. It wasn't fair.  
  
Was he falling in love with her?  
  
This was too much to deal with. Why was he scared?  
  
He'd never had a very good relationship, had he? There were so many reasons for this one to go wrong as well.   
  
He'd been a drug addict. What if that whole issue were to come back? Get real, John, he told himself. That was a slim possibility. Sure, he wasn't going to let his guard down and become vulnerable, but would that ever really be the problem to tear him? No.   
  
She was a drunk. No, she wasn't. She'd gotten past that as well. And calling her 'a drunk' was wrong. She was too beautiful, too caring to be called -  
  
Stop, he said to himself. Stop acting like she's your life.  
  
But was she?  
  
Was he falling in love with her?  
  
He shook his head, responding to no one in particular, no one at all. His hands were thrown to his face once again, in another pathetic attempt to fall to easier thoughts.  
  
He'd never done well in relationships. He'd never done well at all with Abby. Sure, they really were a great couple. But, before all of that, he'd been at sometimes not such a great best friend for her. After all the flirtatious fun rubbed off of their relationship, and it turned serious, would he return to that guy?  
  
If he so loved her, why would he ever want to hurt her like this? This wasn't right. He wanted to scream at the mirror, tell his reflection that he'd done everything wrong with her. He'd been with her too long; now he was in love with her.  
  
But the man who stared back wasn't anyone. A replica with a transparent soul, because he was just a reflection. He didn't have any idea what was going through the real John Carter's idea. He was just a painting without color, an image without words.  
  
He felt tempted to open the cabinet, just so there wouldn't be the bothering picture of a man glaring at him.   
  
It didn't matter what he did, though, because the only picture in his head was of Abby. Every time she laughed, every time she smiled. He couldn't stop thinking about her lately. He hated it when she wasn't around. He knew it was love, but was that what he really wanted? Really, truly wanted?  
  
For the longest time, he'd been without someone. Without someone he'd really liked. He'd never loved anyone the way he loved Abby.  
  
Did he love her?  
  
Was time off what he needed? No, he said, you don't 'take time off' from a relationship. He was an adult. That was the reason to go and tell Abby right now that he loved her. Tell her it right there and then.  
  
That was the romantic approach. That was the way to do it. No matter how awful he felt about it inside, that was the way he had to do it.  
  
He lifted a foot, beginning to the bedroom.  
  
It wasn't the way to do it.  
  
He shrank back into his shell, guiding himself back into confusing misery.   
  
He heard her breathing still.  
  
Maybe it *wasn't* love. It was in-between love and a fling. It was just a relationship.  
  
If you're in a relationship, he thought, would you watch her sleep? Listen to her breathe?   
  
He closed the door quietly and gathered himself again. He had to get out. He didn't know what to do with this. He really didn't know why he felt this way; like he had to run away. He'd never been like this, but he'd never felt like he did about a woman.   
  
He opened the door again, and pulled the shirt he'd thrown to the floor back over his shoulders. He wanted to cry with the decision he was about to make. Was he walking out on her? Walking out on his life? Running away?  
  
He found an envelope. It'd been torn open. A bill.  
  
With a pen snatched from the kitchen table, he scribbled whatever came straight from his hand. His head was unclear, and he knew he couldn't speak from his heart, for it would call for a completely different message.  
  
  
God, Abby, I'm sorry.  
  
John  
  
  
Was that really all he knew to say? He wanted to confess his love a thousand and one times for her. He wanted her to fall back in his arms and embrace each other for all of time...  
  
He threw the pen to the floor in frustration.  
  
He'd fallen in love with her.  
  
With that, he turned on his heel and grabbed his key. Did this mean he would be returning?  
  
Their was more silence. More silence to wreck his nerves. Eating at them, scratching at his mind. Telling him to move, and to stay. Pushing, and pulling. Screaming and crying for everything and nothing...  
  
He gently laid the keys to rest on the counter and took one more look around. Before he left he had to see her.  
  
But he found himself hurrying out the door before that could happen.  
  
He loved her.  
  
  
Sorry for all the questions. Out of habit, I began typing "Was he falling in love with her?" everywhere. Yeah, even where there wasn't a computer.  
  
I know this probably isn't very Carter-like, which is why I added all of the questions he's asking himself. I guess we've never really seen Carter in love like he would be with Abby. So, bear with me. (As always.)  
  
--  
  
He woke up in his car. Looking around to the leather interior, he remembered driving far from his home. He'd driven somewhere along soybean fields. Falling back to the seats, he groaned. You don't run away from love, he knew. He didn't know what he was doing.  
  
The road was completely deserted, empty. He swallowed hard, and every thought of last night came rushing back. Every guilty, selfish sense.  
  
He crawled to a comfortable position in the front of the steering wheel. He couldn't do this. He couldn't go back to her.  
  
Why was he acting like this?  
  
He'd asked himself this too many times. He didn't want to do this anymore. He shoved the keys into the ignition and started off into the same direction he'd gone to. 


	17. Aftermath

"Can I get you something to eat?"  
  
It was your typical roadside diner/gas station. Carter didn't like it, but he was starving. The waitress chewed her gum loudly, and rather disgustingly. They were wearing the complete attire, apron and all. The floor was black and white checkered, and the counter and bar stools were littered with truck drivers and bikers.  
  
"The number five breakfast," he mumbled. It was the first time he'd spoken in nearly twelve hours. His throat was dry, and he choked on his own words while the woman above him looked on oddly.  
  
"That all?"  
  
"Yeah," he replied unsteadily. He handed her his menu and she walked off.   
  
He pulled out his cell and dialed her number. Eventually, he'd have to do it.  
  
She picked up instantly. "Hello?"  
  
He froze.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Abby," he whispered. "Abby - "  
  
"John," she said. "Where are you? What's going on?"   
  
"I can't say," he said. "I can't be with you."  
  
His own words, to him, were of pure disgust. It wasn't him talking. Why didn't he stop it, go home and meet his girlfriend again.  
  
"John," she whispered, then said louder, "what are you talking about?"  
  
"I don't know," he managed.  
  
"Stop it," she said. There was the slightest hint of crying in her voice. "Stop."  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his head in his hands.  
  
"John, no," she said. "Why are you doing this? When are you coming back?"  
  
"I don't know if I am." He was in shock.  
  
"But you have to come back," she said. The tears were evident. "Quit acting like this."  
  
"Bye, Abby," he dropped the phone to the ground. His hands were shaking.   
  
The food was gross, the people rude, the bathroom appauling. It didn't matter. He'd eaten, smiled, and used it anyway. Every emotion was phony.   
  
Trying to drag himself and his mind further away from Abby, he realized what she was. Beautiful, special in every way -  
  
Stop, he demanded himself. Stop acting like she's the almighty. Like she saved your life and you owe her.  
  
Silence.  
  
He did owe her. She'd saved him, and he'd saved her. In a million ways. With every smile, she'd turned his day around. With every glance, they were together no matter where.  
  
If he loved her, what was stopping him from telling her? She could be the love of his life, the one he was supposed to be with, and was trusting his head? His mind didn't know anything at the moment, as far as he was concerned. He neverminded it and dropped a random bill from his wallet to the table. Fifty. Enough.  
  
He smiled unexpectedly as he jumped into the driver's seat. Immediately, the car was started and he was drifting down the road again.  
  
There wasn't a reason to be with her. Not a single reason in the world. Not one. His face lit up again at the thought. He loved her.  
  
Did she love him?  
  
He felt it, he thought. Both had been shy to speak it.   
  
Maybe it was the reason he'd felt slightly disappointed when they found they *weren't* having a baby.  
  
He didn't want to think of anything but her. If he even had a choice. He was crazy about her. Insanely, head over heels in love with her.  
  
It occured to him that he'd forgotten his cell in the restaurant.  
  
Oh, well.  
  
He raced madly back to where she was waiting for him. Crying, now alone. He couldn't believe what he'd said. And how had a collection of disgusting diner memorabilia taken him to a final, better conclusion?   
  
It didn't matter. Whether she took him back or not, he loved her. And he knew it for sure.  
  
He just hoped she felt the same.  
  
--  
  
The rain was pouring. 'Raining cats and dogs,' as some would say. He stormed up the stairs and caught the door of someone exiting the building. Lucky him.  
  
He raced to the top of the stairs and knocked on her door. He couldn't help but smile as he did so, at the thought of telling her he loved her. Was there anything better than this moment? Could anything ever be greater for two people?  
  
He was still scared, he knew. But, maybe the other feelings were overtaking it. He couldn't wait to see her when she opened that door in front of him.  
  
She wasn't home. He'd been knocking on the door for ten straight minutes, now that he glanced at his watch. He groaned and sat on the ground. Closing his eyes, he decided to slip away, and meet her as soon as she arrived home.  
  
--  
  
Something brought his eyes open instantly. His first thought: she was home.  
  
He stood up to knock on the door again, checking to see if perhaps she had entered while he slept. He beat the door until he could feel bone through skin on his knuckles. Maybe she still wasn't home.  
  
He casually sat himself back onto the floor, and prayed that he would see her soon. Again.  
  
--  
  
He'd thought every thought about her, without meaning to. She literally sent shivers down his spine; she was what he'd been waiting for. He knew it now. There was no one else for him.  
  
But had he messed it up? Had he messed up their chances, all by some disappointing aftermath of a shift at County? He hoped to God, something he rarely did, that that wasn't the deal. He didn't know what he would say to her once he saw her. Other than apologize a million times.  
  
But apologizing wasn't enough. He would tell her everything. Everything that had gone through his head from the night he left to the diner, to waiting in the hallway for her.  
  
He loved her.  
  
More than anything. 


	18. Still

John?"  
  
He looked up to see her standing above him. When he got up, she pushed past him to the door. He shook his head.  
  
"Abby, wait."  
  
"Why?" she said quietly. She started to close the door, but he stopped it with his fist. She was putting away groceries in the kitchen to busy herself. Rather than look at him. "Get out."  
  
"Wait," he said, "you haven't heard me out."  
  
"There's nothing to hear," she said. "You left right in the middle of everything. I had no idea where the hell you were, and you didn't even care about that." Her voice began to quiver in and out. Her face was washed with a light crimson shadow. She looked as if she was about to cry.  
  
"Abby," he said, gently, taking her arm. "Let me tell you something."  
  
"Let me tell you something," she said. "I've been through enough. I don't deserve this. I thought that you were different. Like you would *never* do something like this. But," she paused to rub her eyes, "but you did, John Carter. And I can't believe it."  
  
"I didn't want to - "  
  
"You hurt me," she said quietly. "You hurt me a lot. I don't want to have to go through with this ever again. I don't wanna be with you."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I've been in enough bad relationships to know that once something like this happens," she said, her voice growing, "that its time to throw it away. I can deal with it."  
  
"Throw it away?" he said, startled. "God, no. Don't throw it away."  
  
She waved a hand in front of her and turned around. "No reason to stay in a relationship where on half lies, leaves, and comes back trying to fix it every time."  
  
"Look," he said, "yes, so I did run away. Once. For a day. I realized that it was wrong. Terribly wrong and that I didn't want to go through with that - "  
  
"With what?" she asked angrily.  
  
"With knowing that I left you," he said softly. "I don't want to live like that."  
  
"How do you think I felt today?" she asked. "I had *no idea* where you'd gone. This note: what is this?"  
  
"I wasn't thinking," he apologized, going to take the envelope from her.  
  
She pulled it back and threw it away. "I don't know what to think, John."  
  
He stared at her. He'd messed it up, hadn't he  
  
"I don't want to be with someone who does this. I've gone through it too much."  
  
"I know," he said. "I'd never want to hurt you."  
  
"Just get out, please John."  
  
"Abby - "  
  
"Go!"  
  
He walked to the door, his head hung. He stepped into the doorway and saw her staring back at him.  
  
"Abby," he said. He wanted to cry himself now. "Abby, I don't know why I did it. Listen to me."  
  
"Tell me something then," she fought. "Tell me why you did it."  
  
Here it was.  
  
"I was scared," he whispered to the floor. "I didn't want to tell myself one thing."  
  
"What was that?" she shouted crisply.  
  
He sighed, running his hands through his hair. "That I love you."  
  
Her eyes, he swear, could have grown wider. Her arms, previously crossed at her waist, dropped to her sides.  
  
"I love you more than anything."  
  
He loved her more than anything.  
  
"I couldn't breathe when I realized it."  
  
He could barely breathe.  
  
"I want to tell the whole world," he said, "because I've never felt this way before."  
  
She swallowed and looked down, fighting his glance. He pulled her over to him in the doorway.  
  
"I've *never* felt this way about anyone," he said. "So I was nervous. I knew if I lost you, a whole part of me would fall away." His hands were firmly taking hold of her arms. Her head was still bent, as she refused to look at him. "I didn't know what love was, to be honest. I mean - I never knew it could be this good."  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"And if you don't want to be with me," he said. "Sure, I'll cry myself to sleep. And I'll always love you."  
  
She shook her head, once again.  
  
"But when I knew that I felt the way I did," he said tenderly, "I couldn't believe it. It was everything and more. You're the one I love. You're the one who's supposed to marry me. You're the one who is going to have all of my babies. And we'll be together for, well, ever."  
  
She stood still. There was nothing around them. Not a single sound, nor movement.  
  
"Forgive me," he said.   
  
She looked up at him with heavily brown eyes. A million thoughts were running through his mind. What was she going to do? Was she going to kick him out? Was she going to let him stay? Did she love him? Did she know he loved her? Did she wanted to love him?  
  
"No," she said. She turned away to hide her face. Probable tears. She pushed herself to the couch and sat down. "What you did was stupid," she said. "I hate you for doing that, Carter."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I don't know what to think of you," she stammered. "I thought that you and I - you know - were supposed to - " she cut herself off and shook her head. "Just get out, okay? I don't want you here."  
  
"Why?" he asked, but then stopped. "I know that I screwed up, Abby. I screwed up big time."  
  
"Yeah, Carter," she said, throwing her view to him. "You did, you know it. That's great. Get out."  
  
He didn't want to upset her. He couldn't believe the mess he'd forced himself into this time.  
  
"Okay," he said. He stepped to the door and opened it. As he put his foot through the door and prepared to close it he said, "I still love you."  
  
--   
  
Another shorty. Deal with it. I think you'll be able to.  
  
-me 


	19. One Chance

I agree. Too much angst. I despise writing, angst really. But, ER comes with angst, baby.   
  
Don't worry. I usually throw stuff that I don't like in the trash. ;)  
  
Get rid of it!  
  
--  
  
Carter rushed from the car he'd hastily parked to the paved lot. It was nearly empty. Only scattered with a group of gossiping nurses and a doctor taking a break for a cigarette.  
  
He bowed his head and unwillingly stepped into the ER. The doors slid open at his unspoken request and closed again behind him. His dampened soles of his shoes made tight noises against the tile, turning a few ears his way. He ignored the thought and continued to the lounge.   
  
"Carter!" Weaver shouted, while limping his way. "We've got two GSWs, one DOA - "  
  
"I'm not on until seven," he barked. "Which is in," he glanced at his watch while he still shuffled to the door, "ten minutes."  
  
"Once you step into those doors, you're ours," she yelled back. "Get out here, now!"  
  
He sighed aloud and threw his bag into the lounge, mindlessly without aim. The door swung to a shut and he ran to join the clan in the ambulance bay.  
  
A paramedic joined his team at the side of the gurney. Listing a score of complications and details, he kept himself tuned in, but had to blink a few times to rid of exhaustion. Of frustration.  
  
They burst threw the pair of doors in trauma two. Susan accompanied them and informed them of immediate instructions.   
  
"You okay Carter?" she asked, throwing commands at the nurses and Pratt. "You look a little edgy."  
  
"Leave it alone, Dr. Lewis," Pratt said.  
  
"Shut up, Pratt," Carter muttered.  
  
Susan, Pratt and Chuny looked up then around to each other.  
  
Susan nodded, "I think I'll take Pratt's advice."  
  
Carter looked back up at her with prying eyes, but she wasn't to be taken away from her work now. She kept up with her expertise in the procedure, and soon their shouts through chaos were hushed by a better recognition: a steady heart monitor.  
  
"Stable," Pratt called.  
  
"Thank God," Carter murmured, throwing his gloves into the trash abruptly. He stormed to the other side of the room and used two hands to push the doors open. As hard as he could, and into the lobby once again.  
  
He ran into Abby right away. They collided, brought their heads up and realized.   
  
"Sorry," he said, pushing past her. He brushed against her shoulder, but didn't take anything to it. He tried not to think of it. He'd been trying not to think of her.  
  
He made his way past the desk, and began toward the cafeteria. Hopefully, some appalling and rather cold coffee would do the trick.  
  
"Carter," Chuny called across the counter.  
  
He held up a hand with a strong, but drawn smile. "No way, Chuny. I'm not on yet."  
  
"Its 6:59, Carter," she said, annoyed. "Weaver's pissed."  
  
"Screw Weaver," he said. "I have one minute."  
  
"It's seven now!" Jerry said, as Carter quickened his pace to the cafeteria. He whipped around and looked at them straight in the eye.  
  
It caught the attention of many at the desk, including nearly every nurse and a few doctors. They all stopped to watch him.  
  
"I need a break," he said. "You've got more than enough people here. Use them. Leave me alone, because I feel like I'm about to explode."  
  
"What's the problem, Dr. Carter?" Weaver said, coming to the desk.  
  
"Carter needs a break," Haleh said.   
  
Carter shot her a glare, which he ignored. Abby suddenly walked past him, took a chart from the desk and walked to an exam room to join Susan with a patient. He watched her walk, but corrected himself with a turn of his head back to an upset Weaver.  
  
"We all could use a break," she said, "I've heard that story. Everyone just deal with it, get back to work. If you don't want to be here, go home. Just don't plan on coming back tomorrow."  
  
Carter nodded. "Will do," he said angrily, heading back to the lounge. There were a few odd, questioning gasps as he came back to collect his things.  
  
"Carter!" Weaver cried. "Where do you think you're going?"  
  
"I'm getting out of here," he said. He picked up his bag that he'd thrown to the floor just ten minutes before and brought his locker open. A crowd had gathered outside the door, despite Weaver's "get back to work" comment to them. She slid into the room and stood next to him.  
  
"What are you talking about?" she asked. "Carter, you know as well as I do that when the ER is as busy as it is today, we cannot afford to do without staff - "  
  
"It's not that," he said. "I have to leave."  
  
She stared at him. "Well," she managed, "why?"  
  
"Because I can't spend another day in Chicago," he said, shoving things into his bag.   
  
"Wait," she said, reaching out to stop him. He shook away from her grasp. "You're leaving Chicago?"  
  
"Yes," he said.  
  
"Why?"  
  
He didn't answer.  
  
"I didn't mean what I said back there, Carter," she reasoned gently. She was trying to pull him back. "Its obvious that you've been a little stressed lately. From what I don't know - "  
  
He nodded with a fake smile.  
  
"Please, Carter," she said. "Take your break. Take as much time as you need. No one wants you out of here."  
  
"*I* want myself out of here," he said with a raise of his eyebrows. "I need to leave."  
  
"Is that really what you want?" she asked.  
  
Was it? Everything always came back to him. There was everything to consider.  
  
The patients, whose lives he would fight to save everyday. Of every age. The people he got to see everyday. The gossiping at the desk, the angered commands from Weaver that still made him smile. Abby smiling at him whenever he managed to pull someone through in a trauma... When it was just the two of them at night...  
  
He nodded, tight-lipped.   
  
"What brought this on?" she asked, searching his reply as he began.  
  
"Change of plans," he said, shrugging.   
  
"Carter," she said, but it wasn't worth it. Carter had slammed his locker shut and turned around to see the nurses still standing in the doorway.  
  
He picked up his things and started to the door, ignorantly pushed through them.   
  
"Carter," Weaver repeated as he left the doors. "Carter!"  
  
He veered around the corner, threw his things against the wall. Out of sight from the rest of them, he sat down on the bare ground and put his head in his knees.   
  
When he looked up, Abby was standing there across the lot. He didn't want to look at her, but he did anyway. Her eyes were sad, from what he could tell from so far away. She started walking toward him.  
  
He froze. He was too angered with their situation.  
  
She slowly sat down next to him, testing his reaction. He remained quiet.  
  
"Hey," she said quietly.  
  
"What do you want, Abby?"  
  
She looked down then out to where he was staring. Nowhere.  
  
"I heard what you said to Weaver - "  
  
"I think everyone did," he said sternly.   
  
She looked down, again, and once more out to the nowhere. She sighed and curled her hair behind her ears. Hands tied together, she held them against her chest then back to across her knees.  
  
"No one wants you to leave," she whispered roughly.  
  
"I'm not leaving because of that," he threw back.  
  
She nodded. "I know."  
  
He didn't turn his head. He didn't want to look at her.  
  
"Why are you out here?"  
  
She ignored him and sighed again. "Are you really leaving?"  
  
He shrugged. "I should - "  
  
"Please don't," she said. She bent her head and sniffed, the cold getting to her in only her scrubs. "I don't want you to."  
  
"There's no reason - "  
  
"There's every reason," she said. She looked up at his eyes now and touched his face softly. "Please." Her eyes were cautiously traced with tears.  
  
He stared back at her. He knew, in reality, he didn't want her to cry. Not for him. Not because of him.  
  
"Why do you want me to stay?" he asked turning away. "We're not going anywhere - "  
  
"I need you here," she choked. "I don't want to be here if without you." She cried on, a first brave tear running down her cheek.  
  
As much as he wanted to stop that tear before it hit the ground, he reluctantly kept his hand on the back of his neck. He watched it fall, fall to the ground.   
  
He'd lost one chance.  
  
"Really?" he asked. "Because your opinion was slightly different just one week ago."  
  
"So was yours," she whispered. "But you realized something, didn't you?"  
  
He shook his head. "I can't stay here, because this isn't for you?"  
  
She sniffed again and cried, "What isn't? Your career, your friends?" She choked again, then whispered, "Me?"  
  
He stood up and took his bag to one hand. He watched as she stood up, a frown on her face, joining every tear.  
  
"Please," she whimpered. "Please don't leave, John. Please don't."  
  
He looked at her.  
  
"Please," she begged on. "You have to stay here."  
  
He leaned in to kiss her forehead. She cried even harder as he did so, then put her hands on his neck, then his cheeks.  
  
"I can't be here with you," he said, still angered. "I can't do this with someone - "  
  
"John," she pleaded. "Don't do this. Why are you doing this?"  
  
"I don't know, honestly," he said. "But I figure you fit into the equation somehow."  
  
She cried harder as he turned around. She called out his name once, then once again. He attempted to block every sound, every cry from her. But they would never depart from his memory, his mind, or his heart. She was with him forever.  
  
But he didn't want it to be that way.  
  
But, then again, he did.  
  
--  
  
Confusing? Or just stupid?  
  
As I looked back on this before I prepared it for a chapter, I realized it has, like, a dozen traces of "The Storm - Part Two" D/C scenes in it. I swear, it was not supposed to turn out that way. I hadn't even seen the episode when I wrote this. But this is the way I wanted it to be, so don't call me a copycat. ;) Truthfully, I didn't mean to do it that way. I added some more to it, hopefully to make it less like Doug leaving Carol. (It hurts me to say that, still! Any Carby was a D/C fan... right?)  
  
Things will get straightened out. There's always a happy ending in my fics. You know that!  
  
-me 


	20. His Call

He trembled as he walked into the room. Whether it was the cold of the hotel, or the feelings that had haunted him for the two flights he had taken to get here, he didn't know. Well, yes he did. He didn't mind the cold.  
  
He didn't manage to carry his one bag further than the bathroom by the door. He sat it down in front of the closet nearby and fell onto one of two beds sadly. He was miserable. Why he had made this choice in the first place was confusing.   
  
Bringing himself up to the pillow on the left side, he looked over to the empty space. Abby should've been there. She should have been with him right now. But it was fault she wasn't there. He'd failed to fight himself for her again. How could he lose that fight?  
  
He was at a fork in the road. Were they together? Obviously not. Or were they? No, they weren't.  
  
Did she love him? Not after that morning. Did he love her?  
  
God, yes.  
  
At least he thought so. Was it possible that someone could love another, even if they didn't want to be with that person.  
  
But she had cried. Didn't that mean something? She had cried, and he had felt like nothing. He'd felt like less than nothing. He'd made that woman cry. He'd made her sit, and stare and cry for him. For the nothing.   
  
He wasn't deserving to live at the point. He lived for her anyway. He felt useless without her. He was complete with her.   
  
Nonsense. Fairytale love.  
  
But, that's what they'd had. That jumping-over-the-rainbows, happily-ever-after, "I'll give you the moon" love. They'd shared that. And he enjoyed every minute of it. Whether they were fighting, or kissing, or holding hands, he knew she was the one sooner or later.  
  
He draped an arm over his blank, hungry eyes. Aimlessly, he kicked off two shoes toward the floor and blindly reached up with another arm to turn off the lamp beside him. He felt like crying himself. No surprise, considering he had walked away from the one thing he loved most.   
  
It hit him again. Revelation. And sometimes he hated those revelations, those breakthroughs.  
  
He loved her. He knew he did, but now he knew that he had to be by her side, be by her to be himself. He didn't want to do that, though. Because he knew he would entangle himself in something wrong. He'd hated the way they had ended it all. If anything was going to happen, he'd have to initiate it. Because it was his call.  
  
It was his call.  
  
He reached for the phone, then shuddered at the rap on the door. He groggily stood up and made his way to the entrance, pulled the door open and looked his visitor straight in the eye.  
  
--  
  
I wrote a short one. Ha ha.  
  
-me 


	21. No Rainbows Tonight

Twenty minutes after the man had left, and he'd called the front desk to pick up the solicitor, he'd collapsed onto the bed again, hoping for some relief. Why had he messed up?   
  
Who cared, really? He obviously wasn't able to be committed to her and it wasn't fair to her. The very last thing on his mind was hurting her. Ever. But he'd known he'd already done it. A lot, too. He wondered where she was at that moment.   
  
Right there. He knew he loved her.  
  
He turned to see the other pillow in front of him. He reached up and pulled it out of under the blanket and put the cool surface over his face. Sighing again, he revealed his face again to the dark. To the ceiling staring back. He considered calling someone just to turn the lights off for him. He didn't want to move. And he didn't want to speak.  
  
Well, he didn't want to speak to some people.  
  
He would have liked to have Abby's voice in a situation like this, he thought as he lazily went to turn the light off next to him. The room grew dark in an instant and it hit him suddenly. His eyes were sore. No tears had taken him. He wouldn't let them.  
  
He knew they should have, and that they eventually would though.  
  
His hands met behind his head, but that position became tiring. Once again, they fell to his side. He felt like he should turn on the television in front of him, or something to make the miserable moment complete.   
  
He hated himself.  
  
It was the instant where he should have had ever realization hit him then and there and be motivated to get up and run to the woman he'd fallen in love with. And if possible, complete the story and ride off into a rainbow with her.  
  
No rainbows tonight.  
  
  
--  
  
No rainbows at all.  
  
He'd barely drifted off to sleep. The time read eleven. And he knew he had only been half asleep for thirty minutes. He was sweating. His hair was damp and glued to his forehead. He brung his hand in attempt to clear it from his face.  
  
No luck.  
  
He knew again that the only person who would ever help him through something like this would be Abby. Even if it was just a coffee the next day and a few silent words, being with her would help.  
  
But she wasn't here. Abby wasn't there with him.   
  
And it scared him.  
  
Because he knew that he didn't get to be with her. That he'd ruined his chances. Again. How he had managed to do it twice was bewildering.  
  
He honestly wondered whether things were actually ruined. He didn't know what their fate was now. Had he'd done away with it.  
  
God, how he wished he hadn't.  
  
Maybe he should call her. Maybe he shouldn't. What would he say to her, and, what would she say to him? What would she say back?  
  
It didn't matter. He couldn't call her tonight. He should have, but he wouldn't do it.  
  
When did it become so complicated? When he saw the beautiful woman in front of him? The one he had longed to be with in the first place for so long? Almost two years?  
  
Hmm, he thought in pure self sarcasm, that's no reason.  
  
He looked to the windows. Still, they were covered in the monotone drapes. The same ones he'd encountered when he arrived. He dreaded having to spend his night here in the first place, rather than her in his arms. But he knew he'd end up falling asleep, and facing curtains.  
  
And he still hated the way he'd left things in Chicago. He hated things to start out with. He couldn't believe the kind of guy he'd been to her. He couldn't believe the kind of person he'd been - was that even close to normal behavior for him?  
  
He had actually ruined things twice. Twice. He had always expected her to be the one to have the break first, and here he was the one who had fallen.   
  
Fallen twice.  
  
His throat was dry, and his breathing was raspy. He hated feeling this way. Hated it. But he had put it upon himself.  
  
Maybe he should just call her, he thought. Its not as late in Chicago.  
  
But was it already too late?   
  
Too late. The words stung. He didn't like the way this was at all. At all.  
  
He shifted again in disgust. The world was blank now, because she wasn't there. Like he'd fallen asleep to so many times. Her breathing. Her. And he'd taken it away from himself. He wondered why he'd taken such a thing for granted and for so long. He cursed himself for being such an idiot, such a fool.  
  
He looked to the side.  
  
11:01. 


	22. Sick

What do you think? Should he just call her already? Should I just start posting the longer chapters and not these skimpy ones?  
  
Like I said to Greenie: "They're already written, man." (And she answered, "I'm a girl.")  
  
--  
  
He didn't know when and he didn't know how, but he'd fallen asleep. He didn't know how long, either. All he knew was that he'd waken up. And when he did, his left arm covered his eyes, draped across depressingly.  
  
He turned onto his side, and he felt immediately as if he would vomit. He didn't dare stand at first, afraid that his fate might come true too soon.  
  
Against a wish, he came to the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror and stared into another blank portrait. Like what seemed so long ago. When he had everything, and he'd walked away from it. He started to wonder what had driven him to that conclusion in the first place.  
  
Really.  
  
He had Abby. He knew he was falling in love with her, and he'd mistaken it for something terrible. A cloud that hung over him. In reality, it was one of the best things that should ever happen to someone. He could have been the luckiest person on earth.  
  
He swept his face down his hand, over his eyes and falling off his chin. Without noticing, he turned the faucet to the left to bring the running water. Again.  
  
It did no relief. Not at all. It ran down his face in a clean, warm stream. Expected to do wonders...  
  
His knees were weak. His arms were hanging against his side once again. His eyes barely open and swollen. Pale and empty, he frowned at the image. If only there was something he could do.  
  
There is, he said. He knew there was. He was trying to act like he didn't to himself, which he learned was the most idiotic mistake he could make with himself.  
  
His hand was cool against his cheek. It brought no relief, but it felt cool. He froze at his own touch and finally waited to cry. But nothing came. He felt guilty.  
  
He move to the toilet. He felt sick. He lifted the lid and bent down in front of it. No tears, just sick again.  
  
--  
  
Still no relief four hours later.  
  
He hadn't attempted to take it away. Why should he try? He didn't deserve to feel any better. Here he was a doctor, refusing medicine.  
  
As he lay down on the bed with the towel around his neck, moist from his recent shower, he glared at the phone. It had been taunting him all night, and all day. He'd chosen not to eat, not to speak, not to leave the room because of it. It was only a matter of time before it drove him into the wall.  
  
His hand blindly touched the smooth, cool wood of the nightstand. It rested an inch from the phone. Each finger extended, reaching out for it. Because he knew he should make the call.  
  
Because he knew he wanted to.  
  
It was something he couldn't live without. It was her. It was her he'd been crazy about from the beginning, and something he'd lied about until... the end.  
  
And here he was. He was calling it the "end." He didn't want to, and he couldn'e believe he was this close to giving up, if he hadn't already.  
  
It was then he realized how stupid, literally stupid he had acted. He was an idiot. All he had to do was call her.  
  
And he knew her number.  
  
--  
  
Sorry that its so short. And I hate that I don't get to post more often, but school and working at the hospital is finally catching up to me. Tough schedule, but I deal. =)  
  
September eleventh yesterday. I wanted to post it that day, but as you all know that wasn't possible. This chapter isn't devoted to the day, seeing as its posted under an ER category. But, in all seriousness, that day hit me hard. I was born in New York City... lived there for six years of my young life. Please pray for everyone who was hit harder that day.   
  
I figured most of you already would have. =)  
  
-me 


	23. Attempted

His palms, equally dampened in sweat, reached for the phone together. He coughed aloud, still sickened by the unreal, but very real scenario. The receiver to his ear, he took a finger to dial the number.  
  
Dial tone, then ringing. Once, twice, three times, and a fourth. The fifth, and then her voice.  
  
"It's Abby. Leave a message."  
  
Subtle. He felt a slow smile creep across his face, but it only soon became a frown. He swept a hand down a blank face, now a popular action/reaction to every move, ever decision he made. He dusted a hand on the legs of his pants and sighed.  
  
"Abby." His eyes darted around the room, madly, searching for her. He was delirious. He was burning up. He was convinced she was going to show up.  
  
"Abby." He repeated this a few seconds after the other. He imagined what it would sound like on the other side and cursed himself in his head. "Abby, I - " He sighed again and continued, "I'm calling you from, um, a hotel."   
  
He couldn't tell her he'd gone all the way to San Francisco, could he?  
  
"You have to know I'm sorry."  
  
If you're so sorry, he thought for the umpteenth time, then what in the hell are you doing here? Without her?  
  
"I hate the way I feel right now."  
  
If he spoke anymore, he would collapse. But it was necessary. If he did indeed fall to the floor, so be it. He needed to hear her voice. Why wasn't it a possibility now? Why wasn't she home? Or, why wasn't she picking up? Didn't she want to hear from him?  
  
No. Answering a real question.   
  
"I want to cal you later," he said. To his surprise he added, "But I don't know if I could."  
  
He shook his head and contemplated slamming down the receiver, cutting any remote communication between the two of them abruptly. How he wanted to do that very thing. Nothing was going as it was supposed to.  
  
So, with a weak limb, he brought the phone to the hook. It wasn't slamming, but it was abrupt. He felt awful, but it was all that was important now.  
  
Screw it.  
  
--  
  
"Abby."  
  
He had said it aloud. He was getting worse, he knew. He'd thrown up four times in the last hour, each time making a weary trip to the bathroom and back, not caring about himself and the situation he was in. Oddly enough, caring about himself alone was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. And here he was setting it aside when it didn't do anything for him.  
  
His eyes were barely open. They ached, and longed to close. But he fought against them, as if they were the enemy. Among many enemies.  
  
Sleepy eyes, a churning stomach, loneliness, guilt, and a broken heart. Each he'd basically enforced on himself.  
  
Broken heart? Was it possible? If any heart was broken, it was only Abby's. Whatever he'd done to himself was richly deserved. Everything he'd done lately was a result of stupid, horrible judgement.  
  
He cursed at the sun making its generous way through the curtains. With sun, there was that feeling and those scenes. The scenes. Children playing in the park, butterflies dancing in the grass, a couple walking a dog. Or something like that. And no matter how phony, they tortured him.   
  
He was dying in a hotel room in a city he didn't know. He wasn't dying. But his heart was torn and he wasn't feeling "swell." How the sun shone on a day like this was unbelievable.   
  
He reached to his left to pick up the phone again.  
  
Routine. The same routine. Dial tone, ringing. Once, twice, three times. That fourth and fifth ring. Her voice again.  
  
"Its Abby. Leave a message."  
  
He sighed into the phone.   
  
"God, Abby." He covered his eyes with his hand. "Why won't you pick up?"  
  
There wasn't an answer. Whether he was actually waiting for one or not... he didn't know. But there wasn't an answer.  
  
"Look," he said. "I don't know what I'm going to say, and I don't know why, but I'm going to call you until you answer."  
  
He waited - he knew - for a response.   
  
Nothing.  
  
"Please listen to me."  
  
With this, he threw the device toward its rest on the nightstand. Whether it even landed near the phone didn't matter. He looked sideways, anyway, and saw that it hadn't. It was dangling from the stand, and at once, it fell. The cord held it from reaching the floor.  
  
  
-  
  
  
He considered turning on his side, but was afraid he'd throw up. He was unhealthy. He needed to see a doctor. When the maid had approached the door, he'd yelled at her furiously. When the hotel manager walked upstairs to "ask him if everything was okay," Carter had asked him to go away.  
  
The gentleman had kindly informed him that he'd been in the room for four straight days. Carter only remembered waking up two or three times...  
  
Hopefully, he hadn't done anything he'd regret. Anything he'd have to find of later.  
  
He wanted to cry, but didn't have the energy. He couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep. He couldn't think of anyone but her, and he knew he'd done it all to himself. Just the thought made him even sicker. So sick that he thought once if he stayed in bed, it would be punishment.  
  
That way, he would be forced to grow worse, if possible. Emotionally, he was ripped limb from limb. Who cared about how his stomach and head were dealt with.  
  
And again, he couldn't believe he'd done this to himself.  
  
He remembered all those moments with her. Kissing her. For the first time.  
  
It was the most beautiful thing. He'd gone home that night knowing he'd kissed her, but remembering small things. Her had had gently, and barely, cascaded downward across her cheek when they kissed, and had touched his skin.   
  
Her hand had been firmly planted on the car seat. As had his. When she kissed him, one of her hands had crawled up his arm. He had secretly enjoyed it, and he knew she did as well.  
  
He thought back to that day. She had been hiding something from him. It was the fact that she wanted to be with him, he'd realized. When he had indeed realized, he smiled to himself. By then, he was on his way home, savoring that past kiss.  
  
Eyes fluttering happily, he'd soaked up everything about her. And they were perfect together. There was the major factor of him being with Susan then, but after that was over, he'd been lucky enough that it was Susan - someone who understood without a hitch. It was wrong of him nonetheless to do that to her, but it was Abby. No matter how cruel it sounded, he knew he was meant to be with Abby more than the chance of Susan and John Carter.  
  
  
--  
  
  
"Abby," he whimpered into the dark. He opened his eyes. Dark, it was.   
  
There was a series of soft knocks on the door, that eventually became more demanding. He called out for whoever it was to stop.  
  
"Dr. Carter," the voice said. "Could you come to the door?"  
  
Carter shook his head against the pillow. Did he know that no one could see him through a door?  
  
"We're afraid that something's happened to you," the man said. "You haven't left the room for a while."  
  
"I'm fine," he choked. He wasn't though.  
  
There was a full ten minutes of slight conferring between the two parties. The man reasonably talked through the door, but Carter murmured and muttered, "I'm fine, I'm fine."   
  
He wasn't fine at all. He was sick. Terrible sick.  
  
All he wanted was Abby. Abby who made his troubles dance away when he was with her. Abby who'd done so much for him. The same Abby he'd left for no reason. If he'd recognized this, yet he'd said nothing to her. Until it was too late.  
  
He picked up the phone. He promised he would call her again, but he didn't like this, what he was doing. He didn't want to pester her, and he didn't want to put himself through anticipation. This was the last time.   
  
Ever.  
  
Here goes, he thought.   
  
"Third time's a charm," he said weakly.  
  
--  
  
Remember! Drama = power. Us ER fictionists have power over dramatic stuff. When I say "Ever," I mean "Ever."  
  
This chapter is for everyone who wanted a longer one. Its still short, but, hey, its longer than two pages.  
  
-me 


	24. Barely Answers

He wasn't fine at all. He was sick. Terrible sick.  
  
All he wanted was Abby. Abby who made his troubles dance away when he was with her. Abby who had done so much for him. The same Abby he'd left for no reason. If he'd recognized this, yet he'd said nothing to her. Until it was too late.  
  
He picked up the phone. He promised he would call her again, but he didn't like this, what he was doing. He didn't want to pester her, and he didn't want to put himself through anticipation. This was the last time.   
  
Ever.  
  
Here goes, he thought.   
  
"Third time's a charm," he said weakly.  
  
-  
  
Carter's head lay against the pillow. The room was still dark. He felt depressed and even sicker, and the dark would never help. For one, he couldn't get up to simply lift a switch. And for some reason the dark hid him from the world. He didn't want to be seen, heard or noticed at all today.  
  
The receiver was softly against his ear. The dull ring filled it and he felt like he could bleed onto the bed. It hurt without her, and he knew he'd never see her. Never hear her. Again.  
  
It surprised him. He'd given up so fast. He didn't know how long he'd been in this room. Not once had he gotten up to eat anything, or take a walk outside. Nothing. San Francisco wasn't anything to him. Why he'd come here... well, he didn't know.  
  
There was a quiet click at the other end. His head stirred softly, barely at the sound. Something other than the answering machine.  
  
"Hello?"   
  
Abby. His mind spun in a million directions, and came back after a minute. He opened his mouth, but suddenly realized why he had lied down in the first place.  
  
"Hello?" the voice repeated.  
  
He swallowed. "Hi."  
  
It was silent for a minute. "Who is this?"  
  
John or Carter? Why did it matter? "John Carter."  
  
Her sigh hit the phone with small force. "Hey."  
  
He suddenly became aware of sweat making its way through matted hair. He caught an ill gasp and sniffed. "Hi."  
  
"You sound like hell," she said.  
  
He didn't know what to make of it. He knew he sounded like hell. He looked like hell, probably. He felt like hell. "Thanks."  
  
It was more flirtatious banter. Usually, anyway. Now, it was nothing. They still remained silent. Too quiet.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said.  
  
"Don't apologize," she said, her voice nearing a volume peak. "I don't want to talk about any of it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Her voice was weaker now. "Because I don't need any of it." She sighed again. He wished he could see her face. He wished she could see the pain in him, aching from the loss of her beside him.  
  
"We have to."  
  
"You've run away twice now, Carter," Abby said, holding little strength. "And to... God knows where! Where in the hell are you anyway?"  
  
His mind was invisible for a second or two. "San Francisco."  
  
"California?" she said. "Could you get any farther away from me? Why are you so afraid, Carter? What's wrong with you?"  
  
Another sickening sigh from his side. "I don't know  
  
"You've been gone for a week, Carter! Weren't you - "  
  
A week? "A week?"  
  
"Eight days," she said. There was pain. He finally heard it. Detected it in her voice. Strong enough to show.  
  
"God," he said.  
  
"We're all wondering where you are," she said. "Weaver hasn't even taken you out, technically you still work here."  
  
"What?"  
  
"No one believes you're gone," she said. There was another pondering moment between the two as she cleared her throat, sighed once more and continued. "You are coming back right?"  
  
"Do you want me to?"  
  
Silence. Again. Not a single sigh; complete silence. Perhaps a sigh from her wouldn't be so bad right now. Maybe just the sound of her would be comforting.   
  
Thankfully, she spoke.  
  
"I think you should," she said.   
  
He felt a smile. But it wasn't there long.  
  
"But not to be with me," she said. "Because I don't want that."  
  
--  
  
Short again. I know.   
  
My little note today: Most of my fic site is up. Enough of it anyway to get a start. If anyone would like to have their fic featured on my site (sooner or later...) check out the site (alloutcarby.cjb.net) and go to the submit page. If the submit thing doesn't work, let me know at alloutcarby@hotmail.com.  
  
Thanks :)  
  
-me 


	25. Neither Here Nor There

I'm back. Look at me! Hee.  
  
Okay, now that *that* is over, here's something more, um, sane: I've been away for a loooong time. How long has it been, really? lol - But I had to get back here sooner or later... stand-alones make me sad. lol  
  
Another question quickly: Is F4F.com gone then? Permanently? Are they gonna send an email to members or anything? Ha.  
  
  
  
--  
  
  
  
His feet still weighed him down like bags of sand. It'd been two days since he'd awaken from that barely conscious hibernation in a hotel room. He'd called Abby. He'd spoken to her. A stirred, intense conversation. He tried to picture himself staring into her eyes, or holding her waist, but he knew those days were over.  
  
If they couldn't be together, would they ever be friends? That was a more sensible question, he guessed. What other questions had he compared it to?  
  
Why (and when) had it become so complicated? Without a moment's hesitation, he realized that both of those questions resulted in negative answers from his faults. His damn faults. He'd ruined everything. He'd known *why* he'd done those things, but not *why.* He was scared, he told himself a million times. He always thought that if either of them would back out of it, it would be Abby.  
  
Apparently not.  
  
He had ruined his life by taking a stupid roadtrip. Two, now, actually. 'Roadtrip.' That was the worst, most undone way to put it. He had run away. From everything he wanted. It struck him that he really had had everything he wanted. He'd do anything to get that all back, too. Abby by his side. Abby in his arms. Abby with him, in his bed, in his home...  
  
"Hi."  
  
Her solid voice and matching frown alerted him at once. She came toward him as he sat truly dumbfounded in the chairs. The bustle of that airport he'd been through once before awoke him and brought him back to more misery. A small unpleasant dizziness from standing meshed together with the chaos behind him and her face in front of his.  
  
He nodded in reply, his eyes not daring to meet hers. She sighed.   
  
"Where's your bag?"  
  
"I didn't bring one," he spoke. His voice was low, too low for a whisper, but not harsh enough for a growling.   
  
"What? You didn't bring anything with you?"  
  
"Just my wallet," he said, astounded by his voice again, but not showing any recognition. "In my back pocket when I left."  
  
Abby tilted her head, her eyes slightly squinting. She lifted his head, bowed toward the ground, with a firm hand. "Do you know how long you've been here?"  
  
He nodded again, staring at her eyes now. They looked tired, so weary from when he'd last seen her. Or sometime before last, really. Their times had been rocky before he left anyway.  
  
"Never mind," she said. "We have forty-five minutes before they start boarding - "  
  
"Thank you for coming here," he said. "You didn't have to."  
  
"Ha, I know," she said. He knew she was acting angrily on purpose. Not that he blamed her. And he wasn't really insulted. He wished he could rewind to those times before all of these. He wished so bad. It hurt now. Worse than before, now that she was standing here next to him.  
  
"Have you eaten?"  
  
He sighed. He shook his head and wiped his face down with one hand.  
  
"Carter," she argued, "talk to me. This isn't easy for me right now. I don't need this."  
  
He stood in place and nodded as she began to start away from the chairs, gesturing for their start to the allocated gate. He followed her, barely enthusiastically, and felt his head begin to spin.  
  
  
  
--  
  
  
  
The comfort from the chair beside the window was barely comfort at all. Needless to say, it wasn't the hotel bed that he'd mentally cried to for the last seven or eight days, but there hadn't been any real comfort in that either.   
  
Abby sat beside him on the plane. She breathed harshly to herself. He wondered if she was nervous, or agitated or something. She would reach for a magazine in the front pocket of the chair, then put it back after glancing at it for a second. Then at once, she'd calm down.  
  
He turned to her and watched her. Immediately she whipped around and said, "What?" It was almost a shout coming from her, but it didn't matter as the stewardess next to her interrupted.  
  
"Can I interest you in a drink, ma'am?" she said with a smile.   
  
"No," she said quickly. "Thanks."  
  
"How about you, sir?"  
  
He shook his head, his eyes fixed on Abby's hand. For no reason in particular, but just because.  
  
She smiled again and walked away. He wondered if they got paid extra to smile, seeing as they did it so often.  
  
"If you keep acting like this, they're going to think something's wrong with you," Abby reminded him in the same, harsh tone she'd kept all this time.  
  
"There is," he said, turning toward her.  
  
"What?" she asked. Same asperity.  
  
"I ran away," he said unconvincingly. "I left you. I walked out and I knew I loved you. It was a choice I made for some stupid reason."  
  
She looked at his face. He stared at her lips and waited for a word to escape them. Any single, shaking word to leave them.  
  
  
  
  
-  
  
  
  
  
Finally. I can't believe it took me forever to post that piece of crap...  
  
:) me 


	26. When Some is Said and Done

More of this fic. I know this one is boring... stay with me. ;)  
  
  
  
--  
  
  
  
"Dr. Carter?"  
  
A white light fell between heavy eyelids, rudely reminding him of the blunt, uncomfortable surface beneath him. He brought his hand up to scratch his eyes, but was stopped by the thin tubes streaming from his arms.  
  
"What the hell?" he muttered, lifting his arms into the air. He saw that each was connected to machines behind him.   
  
A hospital.   
  
The nurse checked something out of his view. He was alone in the room, a tight blue blanket wrapped from his torso down. He tugged at it, whimpering and cursing under his breath.   
  
"What is all of this?"  
  
"You're in a hospital, Dr. Carter," the nurse said. She folded her hands in her lap as she pulled up a chair.  
  
"I know that."  
  
"Do you know what happened?"  
  
"Where's Abby?"  
  
"Dr. Carter," she urged, "do you know what happened to you?"  
  
"No!" he shouted. "Its your job! What the hell happened to me? Why am I here?"  
  
"You don't remember?"  
  
"For Christ's sake - "  
  
"You passed out when you were walking with your friend." A monitor behind the two of them sounded. She reached back without hesitation with a confused look on her face. It lifted. She switched something off and it ceased. With the cessation, she nodded back to him. "You were at the airport."  
  
"The airport?"  
  
"You don't remember that?"  
  
"At O'Hare?"  
  
"Do you remember, Doctor?"  
  
"I know I was at the airport and I know why."  
  
"Do you remember passing out?"  
  
"Should I?"  
  
"Stop being so stubborn," she fought. "Please just cooperate."  
  
"Screw you," he said, tugging at the blanket again. "I want to speak to a doctor." He threw his head back and closed his eyes. That small, black dark wasn't enough to bring him the smallest of peace, but it was enough to let that nurse know that he was ignoring her.  
  
"Would you just listen to me?" she said again, her voice becoming stronger. "Its necessary that you answer these questions, whether your replies are wrong or right."  
  
"I don't want to talk," he said. "Just find me a damn doctor."  
  
"Not until you answer my questions."  
  
"I want a different nurse then."  
  
"There *are* no other nurses, John - "  
  
"That's Dr. Carter."  
  
"Dr. Carter," she said, trying to be gentle. She fixed the blanket he had disarranged terribly.  
  
"Get your hands off of me," he snapped, swatting weakly at her hands. He became aware of his hands bare strength and stared at them. "What's wrong with me?" He asked, his voice under a whisper, eyes stuck on his hands.  
  
"I'm only trying to help."  
  
He looked up at her, but his gaze was averted to the woman behind the glass of the door. She was starting her way inside of the room. He braced himself, lying back down calmly to the pillows. The nurse reached up the straighten them for him.  
  
Now.  
  
  
  
  
--  
  
  
Intense? Umm, no. Not really. Believe it or not, I actually ripped this one right outta Wells and Orman's hands themselves.  
  
;) me 


	27. He Who is Stubborn

Here's another chapter of this fic, and I'll start updating them all together again regularly... I hope.  
  
  
--  
  
  
"What's wrong with me?"  
  
The doctor nodded toward the nurse, dismissing her from the room and rung around on a chair. Carter had done it so many times, and never had noticed the intense unsecurity a patient could feel when his caretaker had taken this action. How many times had he rolled around on a chair, and then explained to someone that they were about to die, or that they had a life-changing disease? What was wrong with *him?*  
  
"Well," he sighed, "Dr. Carter, we - or I - was hoping that you could tell me that yourself."  
  
"I'm kind of sick of everyone telling me that," Carter said, his head bowed. "If something's wrong with me, seriously wrong, than why don't you just say it?"  
  
He sighed again and pulled his thin glasses down to his nose. He folded his hands in his lap and cocked his head to one side. "You fully fainted at an airport when you were walking with your friend." As he said this, he flinched at the word 'friend.' Yeah, right. Not anymore. "She panicked, is what she said," he continued. "You had a weak pulse. Said you were barely alive."  
  
Carter watched as this man talked. He couldn't quite predict how to react to this, what he was telling him. He felt like he was in a cage with all of these people around him and these tubes in and out of him. He hated it, once again.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And you're very sick," he said. "Its serious, but not that serious. We don't know what's going on with you, but we're pretty sure that its not going to kill you."  
  
Carter closed his eyes.  
  
"Have you been sleeping lately? Eating?"  
  
Carter didn't want to speak today. Or, if it were his way, ever again.  
  
"Abby," he said. "Your friend, Abby."  
  
"She's not my friend."  
  
"Do you know who I'm talking about?"  
  
He shouted with closed eyes, "Obviously!" His eyes were revealed again. He set his neck and head back to the pillows behind him. They were immediately warm and uncomfortable, smothering his face with its mock tranquility.  
  
"She said you'd been in San Francisco for nearly eight days - "  
  
"Really none of your business - "  
  
"That you'd left unexpectedly from work one day. That you'd been terribly sick."  
  
"Terribly sick."  
  
"Is this true?"  
  
Carter knew he was being stubborn. He didn't care. He never would, never again. No way, now how. No need to be. No reason, no feeling to it. Nothing. Not ever.  
  
Stubborness hit him hard when it came, and he never-minded it still.  
  
"Have you been depressed lately?"  
  
He gathered both palms into fists and gently pounded the rails repeatedly with one of them. A calm and carrying, but hidden rhythm that he vowed not to reveal, even if he was just hitting a bed rail. His lips were sealed insistantly. He didn't feel like speaking to anyone at all. Why couldn't they get that through their heads?  
  
"Dr. Carter?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Are you," he said slowly, "or are you not having problems? Currently?"  
  
"Is you life problem-free?" Carter said, raising his eyebrows in sarcasm. "My, my, God has blessed you." With this he pointed two hands together toward the ceiling and winked upward. After this act, he put one hand over his eyes and frowned.  
  
"No one appreciates sarcasm or stupid jokes when you're in the hospital."  
  
An appropriate response could have been, "Abby did," but he knew it wouldn't help. Nothing would help, and really nothing would jeapordize. He wondered if he wanted to die...  
  
"I hate my life," he whispered huskily.  
  
  
--  
  
  
Sorry that was so short. --That seems to be my motto these days.   
  
Someone said something about being confused with this... Carter fainted *after* the plane. I mentioned that he passed out in O'Hare, which is the internation airport in Chicago for those of you who don't know. :)  
  
mandy 


	28. Some Choices

Another chapter of this. I'm skipping far, far ahead. This one will be the first to end, of my three, by the way. I chose to leave a lot of stuff out that would have been chapters by themselves because I... can.  
  
  
--  
  
  
  
Six months ago.  
  
That's when he'd fallen into that hole. And had the help of digging himself out. Yes, he was depressed. The reckless tool dragged him down and held him there. He couldn't breathe, eat, speak, function in general...  
  
Without Abby.  
  
And he still wasn't with her. But she was a friend. They were best friends. Again. It wasn't what he wanted, though; he was madly in love with her. However, she didn't know this. She thought once again they were on good terms. That's what he assumed, by the way she talked to him.  
  
Then that one day hit him. He was stuck at another crossroads in his life. In a way, he'd made the best choice in his life, and the worst -  
  
  
----  
  
  
"Can I talk to you?"  
  
"Sure," he said nonchalantly. He tossed a chart to the side. "What about?"  
  
"Over lunch," she suggested.  
  
"Yeah, okay," he said as they lead themselves to the lounge. Five minutes later, Carter and a silent Abby made their way across the street. Doc Magoo's. Where else?  
  
"I need to ask a favor," she had said.  
  
"Shoot," Carter threw, sipping a coffee. "Are you sure you aren't hungry?"  
  
"Yes," she said urgently. "I really need to talk to you about something serious - "  
  
"Go ahead," he said, still sipping with a smile. "All ears."  
  
"I'm not kidding Carter," she said, pulling down the coffee. "I need your attention."  
  
"Well," he said with a chuckle, setting the coffee aside, "you have two ears. Go."  
  
She pulled in a deep breath and let it go. "I want a baby."  
  
  
----  
  
And that had been that. She said she wanted him to get her pregnant, but that he wasn't to have any part in the fathering process. He had tried to convince her that it wasn't the right idea. That she should have a rightful dad -   
  
  
----  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because," he stuttered, "you want your baby to have a father."  
  
"He'll have a father," she said. "Just not around."  
  
"You're dad isn't around, Abby," he said. "You know how that feels."  
  
"My baby will know who his dad is," she fought. "He'll know that his father is my best friend. He can be friends with his dad."  
  
"That's not right," he pointed. "A baby deserves a family - "  
  
"A family doesn't mean dad, mom, child," she said. "A family is just a home, for comfort."  
  
He shook his head. "There's history here," he said. "We used to date."  
  
"I thought that was behind us."  
  
Carter looked down. He didn't want to go here. He wanted to believe that she was about as over him as he was her. But the fact was that he wasn't over her at all. Apparently, though, she was done with him. They would never be together again. And it hurt.  
  
  
----  
  
So he made the best choice he could think of. And now he was walking away from Doc Magoo's, pondering whether or not that decision was the right one.  
  
He'd said yes.  
  
But had he said yes because he wanted to help her, or because he wanted to have a baby with her? A child? Both ways were selfish on his part. It wasn't the sex he wanted with her, but the baby. The child between them. And even though she'd said the baby wouldn't be a big part of *his* life, he wanted it still.   
  
He cursed himself. Maybe it hadn't been the right decision.  
  
But he was still happy with it. 


	29. Something

Carter stood in front of himself in the mirror. He was disgusted with the image reflected back to him. He grunted in reply and walked away.  
  
He couldn't have a baby with her, he said to himself. It was sick the way he agreed to it to satisfy his own feelings. He wanted to have a baby with her, when he knew in reality he wasn't going to get that.  
  
That was the worst way to treat a friend.  
  
He knew he would have to tell her, and he didn't want to wait. He seriously feared he might lie to himself, tell himself he was doing the right thing. Then, with that lie, he would change his mind and decide to go ahead with having the baby anyway.  
  
He could never do this to her. That definitely qualified for dishonesty, and any other category under "scum." But, what would it have been like to have a baby with Abby? A little child for between the two of them. Someone they could love together.  
  
This wasn't the way to do it, he told himself over and over again. He wanted to be with her, and one day he would tell her. He knew they were supposed to be together. He knew they were meant to be together. But they weren't. And nothing was more devastating than that.  
  
His fingers aimlessly drew back the covers to his bed, uncomfortable and stale. It wouldn't bring him any consolation tonight, he knew. It wouldn't allow him to clutch his heart in pain, and it wouldn't allow him to die right there.  
  
If Abby was the person he was supposed to be with... then - well, he didn't know what to think anymore. His world had been confusing without her. He'd been dipped into depression, which he still hadn't fully recovered from.   
  
The first day back from the hospital she'd told him she was sorry. She told him that she was sorry again and hugged him. He hugged her with every last bit of strength he had had and then she walked away. That was all that he had been able to be near her.   
  
Other than that, meals at Doc Magoo's sporadically and brief moments at the admit desk or in patient care was all they'd spent together. He'd watch her nonetheless as she made her way through the ER's maze with an armful of charts or suture kits or something...  
  
At the end of the day, all he wanted to do was plop down on the lounge's couch with Abby next to him, or nestled sweetly in his arms. But days like that were over. For good, he imagined. At least for now. Funny, and sadly, the way things worked out had taken a toll on him.  
  
Now, honestly, his days weren't as crafted as they used to be. But he'd gone on for six months. Everyday he told himself that it would last just another six more. Nothing helped. No medicine. Not work. Seeing her everyday at County made it harder and harder.  
  
The only thing that would push him over the line was seeing her with Luka. That would drive him in the wrong direction.  
  
As far as he knew, she'd been without a partner since he'd left for San Francisco.   
  
He wondered if he hurt her. He knew he made her sad, but he had only told her he loved her. Nothing more. If only he'd explained to her everything else in her mind. Everything else that he felt.  
  
He felt enough to tell someone. But he wanted to tell her so bad. He wanted to tell her that he couldn't live without her.  
  
He would marry her and have kids with her. Lots of them. And they'd all live happily ever after...  
  
Damn fairytales.  
  
Nothing ever worked out like that.  
  
Why didn't they? None of this mess would have ever become if things worked out like fairytales. If anything had, would he still be questioning his life? Maybe that was the key to living. Mistakes. Much like himself.  
  
He had to give her a straight answer. He owed her. He owed her everything in the world, and the first and simplest thing was pure honesty. The one thing that every relationship, romance to friendship, was supposed to have.  
  
He had to tell her no before he told himself yes.  
  
  
  
--  
  
  
  
"Abby, come here," he rushed, looking behind his shoulder to make sure no one would call him away.  
  
With a chart in her hand, she looked up, puzzled. "What? Just let me finish this - "  
  
"No," he said sternly. "Now, please."  
  
She raised her eyebrows for a second and tilted her head. "What is it?"  
  
"Just," he stammered, "just come on." He grabbed her hand as she tripped over her own feet to get to the lounge. They opened the door to see some of the nurses flipping through magazines.  
  
"Crap," Chuny said with a smile. "They found us."  
  
"I don't care what you do," he said quickly. "Just, could you guys give us a minute?"  
  
Haleh nodded in mischievous understanding. Not to mention completely false. "Sure," she said with a grin. To Chuny and Conni, she suggested, "Shall we try the cafeteria?"  
  
Abby laughed as they walked out, but Carter's face was still drawn to a frown. He still felt sick from this morning's thoughts. If only he could have a family, a life with this woman he loved.  
  
"So," she said quietly. "What's up?"  
  
"I can't do this," he said in a rush. He didn't wait for her to question him any further. "We can't have a baby. Its impossible."  
  
"I'm not asking *you* to have any part in this - "  
  
"That's the problem."  
  
"You want to have this baby with me?" she said. "Is that it?"  
  
"Partially," he whispered. "There's too much history. Don't you think? Its insane. Why, out of every other man you can have, do you choose me?"  
  
She shrugged sadly and sat down on the couch.  
  
"Just because."  
  
His eyes darted from side to side. "Why do you want to have a baby?"  
  
She shrugged again. She put her hands over her face to hide her expression, whatever it might be this time. "I don't."  
  
"Did you ever?"  
  
"I thought I did, I was sure I did until now."  
  
Carter's heart felt like it stopped for a second. He wasn't sure why, but he felt sicker still. "You don't want a baby," he began, "to make up for one you lost do you?"  
  
He was *sure.* He was *sure* he heard her sniffle with a tear, but he didn't say anything.   
  
"I'm sorry, Abby," he said gently, moving toward her. "But that's not the reason to have a baby."  
  
"I know," she said, trying to hide her tears. "I thought that if there was a baby with us, we'd have something."  
  
He didn't know how to respond to that, so he figured the dumb answer. "You mean like a relationship?"  
  
She nodded. "God, I love you."  
  
  
  
  
--  
  
  
  
  
next chapter's the last  
half my site's up: alloutcarby.cjb.net [still screwed up a bit]  
Where's Em been to? I haven't heard from her in a *while.*  
-me 


	30. Stars Don't Lie

He'd been walking for what seemed like hours.  
  
Why it had seemed like so long, he didn't know. His feet were dragging heavily and his eyes were marked with sleep deprivation, but he didn't care. It was cold outside, as usual. It was Chicago. He didn't expect anything more, or anything less.  
  
His eyes stared blankly ahead, full of determination and alert. Everyone that passed into him was hitting his shoulder with one of his or hers. He didn't pay attention to the fact that he was in their way. He walked in a solid line dark the dark street, not caring to part for anyone who needed to get by. People had already started to mumble things his way under their breath, negative things that should have altered his mood.  
  
Had he noticed.  
  
He was debilitated, exhausted, fatigued. Whichever sounded the worst. But tonight it was impossible to see anything but what he wanted. He knew he was taking a risk in the first place by traveling there anyway.   
  
If a risk was necessary, so be it.   
  
"Hey, honey," someone whispered into his hear. He turned around to see someone completely cloaked in leather. He looked at her for a second, a mischievous smirk set on her face. He kept his steady frown, and it wasn't difficult. She put a hand on his shoulder, but he quickly reached to throw it off and start away again.  
  
He could feel the intense circles under his eyes. He imagined how perfectly his image would fit against tonight's murky scene. The usual combination: dark mysterious strangers, dim lights, and the starless night sky. He wondered how late it was anyway. Too late to walk out in Chicago's dangerous streets? Or lurk among the shadowed alleys? It was never too late. Not for the right people.   
  
He'd been through his share of messes, but what had happened within the last year was insane. He had been through so much. There were some moments where he praised God for what he had given him, and moments where he wished God would take his life. Or even some where he contemplated taking it on his own.  
  
Days where he wondered why he was on earth anyway had passed though. All he was left with was his job, money, and an empty apartment. And a battered friendship with someone that had been so important, so special to him. It wasn't fair that he had ruined everything because of fear.  
  
And to this day he didn't understand the fear that he experienced that night. That one night that changed his life, literally. He remembered being there in front of a bathroom mirror, finally doing what he knew would come for so long: he fell in love with her.  
  
If he thought back hard, he could think of the first time he knew he loved her. He hadn't told himself, but he had just realized that it was the real thing. She thought she was pregnant. He never knew if he had wanted her to be or not, because they were still just a couple. But they had hugged, and he knew he loved her then. That moment gave everything away. It just hadn't hit very hard yet.  
  
He winced as he thought back to that night. Whether it actually hurt, or it was just cruel to him, he couldn't figure out. There were a lot of things that he couldn't translate, but it was all in the past. He figured he could ignore it and move on with life, as long as he remembered not to make any of the same mistakes. Learn from your errors, right? That's what he had done walking down this street so many times.   
  
Each time he planned to end up in the same place, but had turned around and gone home each time. Turning his back to the same lonely scene over and over again. This was the sixth time he had made the trip, and he was determined to come to his final destination this time. He didn't want to end up frowning to his pillow again.  
  
Everything was melting together. The clouds were blurring into one anonymous shape, but it wasn't enough to guard him from reality. The picture of them together was sharp enough in his mind. He hated tearing a world apart from its own set. Whenever he said that to himself, it made sense somehow. He figured it wouldn't make sense to anyone else, and tonight it didn't serve much purpose either. He didn't understand it at all.  
  
It wasn't cold, really. It was humid now. The added moisture there wasn't comforting at all. It surrounded him with heavy, tightened arms that didn't allow him to sway in the natural sense. Instead, he was stuck within a blanket in which brought no added heat, but more pressure to turn around and go home for once.   
  
A siren sounded in the distance, and memories of his job way back when filtered through his mind. The days when meeting her in the exam room wasn't for medical purposes. To fool around or something. He loved that. They were brand new to each other, and then when they weren't, it only got better.  
  
Normally, it should stay that way. Nothing should get worse. Everything in the right book says, "fall in love, get married, live happily ever after." If things had happened the way they were supposed to, how far would they have gone by now? They would have been celebrating nearly one year, perhaps.  
  
He could just imagine building a life with her. Proposing to her, marrying her, having children with her. Everything that he had wanted to do with someone. He knew that this was the person he wanted to do all of these things with. It was a remarkable feeling when you knew the fact. It wasn't, however, the most outstanding thing when you didn't know how to get there.  
  
They had known each other for so long before they hit it off anyway. He was thinking back to it all right now. The first time they had met each other. She was a med student, and he was still a little hung up on Lucy. It was weird to think that now. Before the incident with Sobricki, he had talked to her on the roof. Comforting her when she lost a patient.   
  
She helped him through everything when he came back from Atlanta. She helped him *get there* in the first place. At the time, he hated her for sending him there. He didn't realize how much he would thank her once he came back. As he had said to her, he *could* have been dead. Just look at what happened to his cousin, after all.  
  
And then, they had become friends. Good friends. Within a few months' time, they knew each other inside and out, practically. Best friends, you could say. But things changed when he knew how he felt about her. She started dating Luka and his world started to question some things. He disregarded stuff, and went with jealousy.   
  
In some ways, as selfish and rude as it was, it seemed that Abby had more of a reason to be with Carter than Luka, even if it was as a friend. They connected better than he had seen her and Luka. But, honestly, they were a couple for a long time. He couldn't have known.  
  
When they had been on that bench, and he had told her how he felt, it was subtle in a way. And she had set it aside. They were so close of friends, and he couldn't take it anymore. He had friends, but he needed to be with her. Little did he know that he would have to wait another few months before it was even brought up again.  
  
And another evening at their bench by the river came around. She told him that she felt the same way. He, as stupid as he had been, accused her of not being as serious as he. He hadn't said those words to her face, no, but it was what he was thinking.   
  
And so she walked away again, as he deserved. He didn't think he was worthy of receiving anything from her anymore. But, as his trend followed, he still went on thinking it was her fault that nothing had happened that night.   
  
Soon enough, that story turned into more past and something he didn't want to return to, out of sheer jealousy of Luka and being upset at Abby (over nothing). So he put it away for a while, and sure enough, another obstacle returned to good old Cook County General Hospital, Chicago, Illinois: Susan Lewis. She was an old friend, a good friend, but he had mistaken her for a relationship. Maybe it could have happened before, before she left years ago, but he was hung up on someone else. He knew it, and he thought maybe that she would eventually realize it as well. Wrong, he was indeed.  
  
So, that had been the story behind it all. It ran through his mind like an unwanted song in your head now and he wished deeply to get rid of it. But all he could do now was recognize the uncomfortable patterns in his sweater, if that even mattered.  
  
He looked up at the sky. For the first time tonight. Maybe it wasn't starless. There were *some* stars. Barely any, but they were there. The brightest was stretched out in front of him, shining proudly. He smiled and began walking faster. Wasn't there that story about the North Star? Something about getting you home?  
  
He found himself jogging like an idiot down the street. When he came in front of the building, he didn't waste any time. He pushed open the gate and ran up the stairs. Perspiration building about his temples and eyes, and his hair dampened, he opened the door with the key. He still had it. She had never asked him for it back. Could that have been a sign of something? he wondered now.  
  
The door creaked open, inviting him inside. The hallway was dim downstairs with that feel of oppression onto your eyes. Or something. Maybe there could be a better term for it. He made a mental "never mind" and searched the room for a clue as to where to find her. Not that he needed one. He knew exactly where she lived, where she went to buy her groceries, and where she went to do her laundry. He loved her.  
  
His feet the stairs with force, sending him in a fury up the stairs, two at a time until he couldn't breathe. It was as warm inside as it had been out, but for some reason the heat wasn't as unbearable as it was a minute before, when he was still walking Chicago's streets. Instead it was just an element now that was with the whole journey. Journey. The one he had taken for almost a year now. This was the story's ending. He prayed it'd be the beginning.  
  
The beginning of something good. He had prayed enough. There was only so much God could do before he had to do something himself, right? Step in and become a man, as someone had said to him. Who? He didn't care right now.  
  
Second floor.  
  
  
--  
  
desperate for changing  
  
--  
  
He wanted to knock, but his fingers were numb. There was a brief second in which he could turn back, but he assumed it passed hours ago. Years ago. It didn't matter. He was standing in front of a door, where someone would determine whether or not... he wanted to open the door.  
  
  
--  
  
starving for truth  
  
--  
  
  
He glanced at his watch. Nearly eleven at night. Would it be too late to just knock on the door? He didn't want to wake her up. Oh, who was he kidding? Selfishly, he had to see her. He had to see her and talk to her and tell her something. He could deal with not being able to see her tonight.   
  
No he couldn't.  
  
He was close enough to her now. All he had to do was apologize. He didn't know if she would choose to be with him again, but he would have said he was sorry. For the second time, sure, but this time it was different. He would be clear, open-minded, and ready for whatever she said.  
  
Although, he didn't know how he'd live without her.  
  
  
--  
  
closer to where i started, chasing after you  
  
--  
  
  
So, his fingers hit the door. His knuckles, rather. They had turned cold and white form empty anticipation and ached when they met the wood of the door. He almost immediately regretted the action as soon as performed, but stuck around outside anyway. For reasons unknown.   
  
There was rustling in the apartment, and he perked up silently. He felt a rush through his body and automatically attempted to shove away fear. He reminded himself he was still standing here, and that only half of the worse fate could be over.  
  
  
--  
  
i'm falling even more in love with you, letting go of all i've held on to.  
  
-  
  
  
"Carter?"  
  
His eyes, already open, saw her answer the door a minute after she did. A smile took shape on his face. He wasn't sure why.  
  
Sure he was.  
  
"Hi," he whispered. His hands tugged nervously at his clothes to his side.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked immediately, closing the door slightly as to conceal the rest of the apartment from him.  
  
"I need to see you," he said.  
  
"Is that all?"  
  
They watched the other sit there and stare. He hadn't talked to her in one week, and she hadn't seen him for one week. He wouldn't let it stand in the way; he had to be with her.  
  
"I love you."  
  
Her face softened from her brow pressed, and she adjusted her frame against that of the door. "Okay."  
  
He came forward and took her hands away from her grasp on the door. She watched him pick them up, her eyes darting from her own hands with his to his face as he did so. She looked intently into his eyes, questioning his behavior.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never meant to hurt you."  
  
She sighed as he rubbed her hands within his own, both watching this activity as he spoke. "I don't know why I did what I did. I wish I hadn't done it."  
  
She sunk a little lower, her head bowing to a different level. She turned her thumbs to hold onto his hands as well, and breathed out again.  
  
"You have to know," he whispered, coming closer, "that I love you more than anything. Do you know that?"  
  
She nodded quickly to his question, but slowly at speed, and whimpered a little. He picked up her chin, looking into her eyes.  
  
"Are you crying?"  
  
She moved her head away, then she fell forward into his shoulder. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her at once. He buried his face deep into her mane of hair that he had fallen in love with long ago, and lost himself in it.  
  
She nodded against him, an answer to an almost forgotten question. He ran a hand down the surface of her back, then up it again. She finally reached up to place a hand on his arm, shuddering against his chest.  
She reached up and kissed him on his lips. "Don't ever do it again," she pleaded.  
  
"I don't want to," he said quietly, kissing her back.  
  
As soon as their lips parted again, Abby added, "I love you." Carter watched her speak and leant forward to meet her again. In the middle of this, she pulled him inside and the door shut silently, leaving the quiet hallway to itself again.  
  
  
--  
  
i'm standing here until you make me move  
  
just hanging by a moment here with you  
  
--  
  
  
  
Outside, the same streets were walked upon by the same people. Each as dark and mysterious, as twisted and troubled as the next. The stars aligned against most, but there was one star in the sky that always told the truth.  
  
When Carter finally was tucked into bed with Abby, he pulled her close to him, ascertained not to let her leave his hold. He kissed the back of her neck over and over again, until he fell asleep against her body, his breaths finally even and just.  
  
His life just the same.  
  
  
--  
  
  
  
*the end* 


End file.
